Evolution
by denise1
Summary: A series of stories that tells the Evolution of Sam and Jack from teammates to something more.
1. Chapter 1

Evolution: First Impressions

By

Denise

"General, where in the rule book does it say that an SG team HAS to have four people?" Jack asked, sitting down in one of the man's chairs.

"Jack, you've been very complimentary about Major Kawalsky in your reports," General George Hammond said, sighing as he leaned over his desk. "In fact, just last week I seem to recall reading that he was ready for his own team," he said.

"Yes, he is. But just because he gets his own team why does that mean that I get to baby- sit the wet behind the ears rookie?" Jack asked. "Daniel, Teal'c and I get along just fine."

George nodded. "And the next time you get stuck on a planet without a working DHD?" he asked, pointedly bringing up their last, nearly disastrous mission.

"We managed," Jack said, bristling a bit at the man's words. Yes, it had been spooky and had definitely been a close call. Fortunately, Earnest and Catherine had managed to figure out how to get off Heliopolis before the whole palace had crumbled into the sea.

"You did. And you would have managed even easier had you had someone with you that understood how the stargate worked," George said.

"Teal'c knows."

"Teal'c still thinks of the goa'uld as his gods and sees their technology as magic," George reminded. "Jack, Captain Carter is one of the Air Force's foremost experts on the Stargate," he said. He handed Jack a folder and Jack opened it, glancing at the type written sheets inside.

"Then why didn't he go to Abydos?" Jack asked, wondering why, if this person was such an expert, they were just now coming to the program, a good six months after its inception. He closed the folder and laid it on his lap, not even bothering to really read it.

"The captain wasn't available for reassignment then, but she is now," George said.

"She?" Jack raised his eyebrows, catching the addition of a letter. "Not only am I getting an egg head, I'm getting a female egghead?"

"Do you have an issue with female officers?" George asked.

"Personally? No," Jack said. "But, with all due respect, sir. You haven't been out there. Women's lib hasn't made much of a splash."

"We have female officers on other teams," George reminded.

"Yes, sir, we do," Jack agreed. "And, so far, things have been ok. But I'm telling you sir, if we'd had a female with us, that whole Mongolian thing probably would have been a lot different."

"Maybe," the man conceded. "Regardless, Captain Carter is going to be on your team. You may as well get used to it."

"Yes, sir," Jack said, getting to his feet. He nodded to the general and left the room, sighing once he was out of the door. This was bogus. He didn't want to break in someone new.

Yes, Charlie deserved his own team. To be truthful, he did from the beginning. And Jack had noted the fact in his mission reports more than once. He just hadn't stopped to think that once Charlie got his own team, that Jack would get someone new.

As far as he was concerned, SG-1 was odd enough as it was. If Daniel wasn't enough to deal with, there was that whole alien thing with Teal'c. The last thing he needed was some prissy girl, or worse, some ball cracking butch.

He reached the elevator and swiped his card, summoning the car. He knew that he should tell Daniel and Teal'c about their new member, but he just wasn't in the mood. She wasn't due to arrive until tomorrow, so there'd be time enough in the morning.

Besides, this morning he'd told Sara that he'd be home in time for dinner and that was a promise he intended to keep. Especially since he was in no mood to spend the night on the couch…again.

XXXXXXXXXX

Captain Samantha Carter made her way through the various checkpoints, her newly laminated and glossily slick ID allowing her passage into the top secret facility. She held her head high and smiled at the various SF's, hoping that the old adage was true. If you looked like you knew what you were doing, people were less likely to question you than if you showed any insecurities.

She couldn't believe that she was finally here. For over a year Cheyenne Mountain and Stargate Command had been the same to her as Los Angeles and Hollywood were to an aspiring actor.

The past couple of weeks had been insanely busy. She'd moved from San Diego and, thanks to no small amount of help from General Hammond, found a small house to rent a few miles from the base.

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, she hadn't owned much furniture and lacking the time and the funds to really shop, had simply furnished the house with finds from the local thrift store.

Part of her wanted to settle in more, but another part of her was afraid to extend herself too much. She was planning for this to be a fresh start, a chance to put her past behind her and finally take her fate into her own hands.

But if she'd learned nothing else in her life, it was that fate was a fickle creature and it often rebelled against any attempts to control it.

She made her way down to the deepest depths of the SGC, following General Hammond's directions to his office. Protocol demanded that she present herself to the base CO and then find out precisely how and where she'd been assigned.

She knocked on his door, unable to deny the relief she felt when she recognized his voice telling her to come in.

She stepped in front of his desk and stood at attention, saluting smartly. "Captain Carter reporting for duty, sir."

He saluted back, smiling welcomingly. "Sam, sit down," he invited. "How are you settling in?" he asked as she sat.

"Fine sir, thank you," she said, still not able to fully relax now that they were on the base. General Hammond may be an old family friend and a buddy of her father's, but he was still her commanding officer. And the last thing she needed was for rumors about favoritism to start.

"Good," he answered. "You have a meeting with your new commanding officer, Colonel Jack O'Neill in an hour," he briefed her. "You've been assigned to his team, SG-1." He handed her a folder. "There are some short briefs in there about your teammates, Doctor Daniel Jackson and Teal'c."

"Teal'c?" she asked. "That's a strange name."

"Teal'c is a Jaffa, an alien," he explained.

"Like the ones that attacked the SGC six months ago?" she asked, opening the folder.

He nodded. "Yes. Teal'c defected. He helped Colonel O'Neill's team escape and was granted asylum. He helps with intelligence and translation. I'm trusting that you don't have an issue working with an alien and civilian," he said pointedly.

"I don't think I'm in a position to have an issue with anything," she answered. "If you feel that this is where I belong, sir, then this is where I belong."

He chuckled. "You should have joined the diplomatic corp," he said. "I think you and Colonel O'Neill will get along just fine." He sat back in his chair. "We don't have a lot of female officers on this base so our facilities aren't quite up to par with other bases. There was a knock at the door and Hammond waved the person in. "Sergeant Westerholm here can show you around, Captain." Sam stood up, acknowledging the sergeant. "Once you've showed her around, take her to Colonel O'Neill's office. She has a meeting with him at 1000," he instructed.

"Yes, sir," the woman said.

"Dismissed and good luck."

Sam saluted and left the room, hurrying to keep up with the young sergeant. "I can take you down to the locker rooms," the woman said. "We keep fatigues in there." She looked Sam up and down, noting her class A uniform, appropriate attire for meeting her commanding officer. "The general's not big on wearing the dress blues unless you're a member of the admin staff," she said, leading Sam to the elevator. "General Hammond is pretty mellow. No stick up his ass like some other stars I've known," she said, ushering Sam into the car.

"There's only about a dozen of us here, other than the nurses," she continued. "And I think only three others on off-world teams, so while the guys seem to respect us, we do have to share."

"Share?"

"Locker rooms," she explained. "We have signs on the door. You need to shower or whatever, you just make sure that the room is clear and flip the sign. The guys will stay out, or go find another one. Although, a lot of the women just change in the ladies rooms." The door opened, depositing them on a floor that looked a lot like the one Sam had just left. "They keep promising us our own locker room, but given the numbers, I'm not holding my breath," Sergeant Westerholm said.

She walked to a door labeled 'Locker Room' and knocked on the door, calling out loudly. Getting no answer, she flipped a laminated sign hanging by a string over to read 'Female Occupied' and opened the door. "So far, we don't seem to have any exhibitionists, but you never know," she warned. "The general has said, as long as you announce yourself, you're covered. Although, I would suggest using the lock." She pointed out a small hook and eye catch. "If they're really determined they can get in, but this is usually enough of a deterrent."

She opened a closet and pointed out some fatigues. "I'll let you find your size. We can get with the quartermaster and get you some more. Most folks around here come in in civvies and change. And, I'll talk to Siler about getting you a locker," she listed off. "I'll be waiting outside and give you the nickel tour before taking you to Colonel O'Neill's office."

She stepped out of the room, leaving Sam alone. With a sigh, Sam sank down on a bench, staring at the Unitarian room around her. She was here. Despite herself, she chuckled, raising her hand to her mouth to smother the noise. Hot damn, she was finally here.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack O'Neill scanned the report in front of him, preparing himself for their next mission. At least they'd gotten an easy one to break in a newbie, the trip to Hanka to observe a black hole being a perfect cake walk. Especially one for a theoretical astrophysist.

He still wasn't sure about her. Everything in her file seemed to prove that she was a good candidate for this command. Of course, some of the stuff in there also suggested that maybe there was a little something more to her transfer.

There was a knock at the door and he checked his watch. "Well, she's punctual," he muttered, closing her file. "Come," he said louder.

The door opened and she stepped into his office, stopping in front of his desk and snapping to attention. "Captain Samantha Carter reporting as ordered, sir," she said, her eyes fixated on the wall behind him.

"At ease," he said after a few seconds, taking the time to study his new teammate. She was tall, taller than was normal for a woman, and a little on the slim side. Her blond hair was cropped short, coming just to above her collar.

She shifted position, moving to parade rest. Someone sure as hell put extra starch in her girdle. This was going to be fun. She'd probably spend most the mission quoting regs at him. "So, when does daddy come for a visit," he said, giving into his baser instincts.

"Sir?" She glanced at him, frowning a bit.

"How long before I get to show the good general around?"

"I really don't know, sir. I haven't spoken to him since Christmas. But if you'd like I can give you his number and you can invite him," she said sweetly, a glint of evil in her eyes.

Jack shook his head, chuckling slightly. "For crying out loud, sit down," he said.

"Sir?"

"Sit." She sat in the chair in front of his desk, her posture relaxed but still stiffly uncomfortable. "So, what exactly does a theoretical astrophysist do?" he asked.

"We study the aspects of the physics of astronomy," she replied evenly.

He nodded slowly. "And the theoretical part?"

"It's kinda hard to bring a star into the lab, so we usually end up just running simulations based on the known quantities of the problem," she said. "Of course, for every known quantity, there are a dozen more that are unknown which means that every single experiment can have a nearly endless number of outcomes."

"Stop," he said. "You talk like that on a mission and I'll put you on report."

"Colonel?"

"No babbling, it gives me a headache," he said. "Ok, in words of two syllables or less, why are you here."

"I was assigned here," she said.

"So?" he asked, doing his best to rattle her. "A lot of people are assigned here. None of them are on my team."

"Well, sir. If it wasn't for me, you would have no reason to have a team," she replied.

"Excuse me?"

"Actually, that isn't quite true. You would have a reason to have a team, you just wouldn't have much to do," she corrected.

"Would you like to explain that, Captain?"

"On Abydos, you found a cartouche; it contained a lot of Stargate addresses."

"Right, Daniel found it. We brought the addresses back, plugged them into the computer and, voila, we have a program."

"Very true," she agreed. "However, the addresses Doctor Jackson brought back were only partially useful."

"Partially?"

"They were right, they're all right. But whoever wrote them down thousands of years ago didn't quite grasp the concept of stellar drift. The theory is that the DHD is able to compensate—"

"We don't have a DHD," he interrupted.

"Right, which is why I wrote the program that takes stellar drift into account. If it wasn't for that, only a fraction of Doctor Jackson's addresses would work," she said.

"And this ability will save our asses when pissed off aliens are trying to kill us?" he asked.

"No," she admitted. "But I do have level three hand to hand and am an expert marksman," she replied.

"Ok, Captain. We have a mission tomorrow, I'll send you a copy of the report," he said. "You can spend the rest of today getting situated." He looked at his watch. "Chances are Daniel and Teal'c will be eating lunch in about an hour. Meet me in the commissary and I'll introduce you." He handed her a folder. "Hammond also assigned you lab space. Here's the access card. It's up on level nineteen. If you need anything, give me a call."

She took the folder from him and got to her feet. "Thank you, sir."

"We ship out at 0800 tomorrow. Which means that you're to be in the gate room, dressed and ready by 0750," he warned.

"I'll be there, sir. Thank you." She left the room and he watched her go, shaking his head slightly. She may be an egg head, but at least she had spirit.

XXXXXXXXXX

The front door opened and Sam looked up, smiling as Pete walked in. "Hey," he called out, shucking his coat. "How was your first day?"

"You would not believe it," she said, closing the folder she'd been reading. He sat next to her on the couch. "The whole place is just—fantastic," she finished.

"Yeah, tell me about it," he invited.

"Pete, you know I can't."

"Classified?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. What can you tell me?"

"Umm…I get to travel a lot," she said. "The dress is fatigues so I don't have to mess with hose and heels every day."

"That's always a plus. I hate it when I have to wear heels to work," he quipped.

"Stop." She slapped his arm playfully.

"How about the people," he asked.

"They seem ok. A lot of guys, there's not many women assigned there."

"That can be good." She shot him a look. "Not only is there no line in the ladies room, but it's a target rich environment," he teased.

"Behave Shanahan. What was your first day like?" she asked, knowing that he needed to get used to the ground rules. For the better part of the past year, he'd been her confidante. The person she'd talked to at 0300 when nightmares kept her awake. The only person she trusted enough to be totally honest with. But he needed to accept that he had to step back now. There was a part of her life that he couldn't get involved in anymore.

"Not too bad," he said. "The captain's a bit of a prick, but my partner is good."

"What's his name?"

"Her."

"Her?"

"Yeah, Detective Roxanne Rivers."

"Roxanne? And what happens when you call her Roxie?"

"She shoots me," he answered. Sam laughed, getting caught up in Pete's infectious

humor. "Actually, she goes by Tracks."

"Tracks?"

"Tracks. As in rail road." She stared, shaking her head. "RR. Roxie Rivers," he explained as Sam struggled to keep a straight face. "Tease." He got to his feet. "You want to get dressed?"

Sam looked down at her sweat pants and t-shirt. "I thought I was."

"They're having a little get together. Sort of a welcome to the squad thing," he explained.

"Pete, I have to be in early in the morning," Sam protested.

"It's only 530."

"And I have to be up by 0500."

"You need to eat, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, from what I hear, this place serves a mean steak. We'll have dinner and come home early," he bargained.

"And when you get caught up talking? What then?"

"Then you slap me upside the head and drag my ass out of there."

"Pete—"

"Come on. It'll do you good to get out," he said. "Weren't you just saying last week that Colorado would be different? That you weren't going to be all isolated and insular?"

"An evening in a bar with a bunch of cops wasn't quite what I had in mind," she said.

"It'll be the safest place in town. Besides, you never know when you'll need to get out of a ticket," he tossed over his shoulder as he made his way back towards the bedroom.

"I do not speed," she called indignantly. "Much," she confessed to herself. Ok, so she was hungry. And steak did sound good. And it would be sort of fun to meet Pete's co-workers on a personal level instead of professional. "We're leaving by eight," she yelled, levering herself off the couch.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I invited a few of his friends," Sara said, resisting the urge to kick her husband under the table. Jack was distracted, eating his steak with a fascination that bordered on obsession. "Do you think you can stop by after work and pick up the cake?" she asked. "They said it'd be ready after noon but if I'm going to have any time to decorate before the boys arrive at two, I really won't have the time."

The plan for Charlie's twelfth birthday was to have a pool party around the large above ground pool Jack had put in the year before. The boys would spend the afternoon swimming and playing then Jack would get home and barbecue some hot dogs and hamburgers for dinner.

It was going to be a perfect day. if she could just get Jack to pay attention long enough.

"Of course, I could always ask one of the strippers to pick it up. That Bambi that I talked to seemed nice enough. She said she might give us half off…in the interest of future business of course."

Jack took another bite of his steak and Sara sighed. She plucked a spray of parsley off her plate and flicked it across the table, catching Jack on the nose. "Hey!"

"You're ignoring me," she complained.

"I'm sorry. I just—"

"Was thinking about work," she finished.

"Yeah." She raised her eyebrows inquisitively, inviting him to share. She knew that there were aspects of his job that he couldn't talk about. But she also knew that he could tell her quite a bit, as long as he left the details. "We got a new person today," he said. "Charlie's getting promoted to his own team and they replaced him."

"That's great," Sara enthused. "We should have him over to dinner, celebrate."

"I'm sure he'd like that."

"Something's bothering you," she said, picking up on his mood. One thing her husband wasn't was subtle.

"It's just…It's a she."

"What?"

"The new member of my team, it's a woman," he said.

"So?"

"So…We're going to be going out on missions, sometimes for days on end and—"

"Jack," she interrupted. "Do you plan to have sex with her?"

"What? NO!" he said, his raised voice making a few of the nearby diners look at them.

"Then I have no reason to worry," she said, hiding a grin at her husband's behavior. There were times, for all her husband's worldliness, he could be so parochial. "You've worked with women before."

"Yeah, just not…" Jack set down his fork. "Sara, I've never had a woman on a team that goes on overnight missions before," he said.

Sara chuckled. He was probably right. Over the years, she'd met a few members of his team, and every single one of them had been male. It made sense. For as forward thinking as the military liked to portray itself, most of its elite units were definitely male dominated. "Well, unless your mission is in a nightclub, I don't think I have much to worry about," she dismissed, quashing the small fission of unease that washed over her.

She loved her husband, she trusted her husband. And she knew that he knew that if he ever cheated on her, she'd Bobbitt his ass. "You know, I think I'd like to meet her," she said, taking a casual sip of her beer.

"What?" He stared at her, looking more than a little shocked at her suggestion. She'd certainly met some of his teammates before, but she did prefer to keep work at work and not to encourage him to bring it home.

She had no little amount of respect for what her husband did for a living. It was dangerous and not something that just anyone could do. But she also didn't want to raise their son surrounded by men who killed for a living. She shrugged. "Well, when we invite Charlie over to celebrate his promotion, we can invite her too. In fact, invite both teams. You can burn some meat, they can play in the pool…it'll be fun."

"I thought that—"

"Yeah," she interrupted. "I know. We'll make an exception. Besides, this project is obviously important to you. I think I'd like to meet the people you spend so much time with."

"Ok," he agreed. "I'll aah, I'll talk to Charlie and see what day works," he agreed.

They finished their meal and Sara excused herself while Jack paid the tab. She made her way through the game room, having to squeeze by a large group of people, all gathered around the pool table. A tall blonde had the cue in her hand and was bent over the table, lining up a shot.

Sara watched her sink the ball and shook her head. Oh for the good old days, she thought, entering the bathroom. She quickly took care of business and walked back out, noting that the woman was still the center of attention in the group.

Tamping down a pang of something she refused to call regret, she made her way back through the bar and to her husband, waiting by the exit. She didn't need a group of admirers; she had a husband and a son. Who could ask for more?

XXXXXXXXXX

"So, what exactly are we going to see after this eclipse begins? I mean it is black. And it is a hole," Daniel said, trying to start a conversation. It was odd to be going through the stargate without Major Kawalsky with them. He was just getting used to the man's off beat sense of humor, which meshed rather well with Jack's quirkiness.

Captain Carter was different, Daniel could tell that already. She wasn't rude or cold, but was definitely retired and a bit reserved.

Of course, that could also be attributed to going on a mission to another planet with a bunch of virtual strangers.

"Well, it might be a black hole," Jack said.

"Okay, let me put that a different way."

"No Doctor Jackson, you're right, you can't actually see it, not the singularity itself its so massive not even light can escape it. But during the totality phase of the eclipse, we should be able to see matter spiraling towards it."

"Actually it's called the Accretion Disc." Daniel and Teal'c stared at Jack while Captain Carter watched them all, her unfamiliarity not allowing her to get the joke.

"It's just an astronomical term," Jack excused. "Let's go."

He shepherded them up the ramp and Daniel moved to stand beside Sam. "It's really not that bad," he reassured her. "Just a little cold."

"That's a result of the compression your molecules undergo during the millisecond required for reconstitution," she said absently, her eyes fixated on the shimmering blue surface.

"Right." he said slowly, glancing at Jack. Captain Carter paused atop the ramp, one hand going out to touch the surface. "You can actually see the fluctuations in the event  
horizon," she whispered.

Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel saw Jack move, giving the captain a small shove and pushing her through the gate.

"Jack…" Daniel protested.

Jack shrugged. "We haven't got all day." He walked through the gate and Daniel looked over to Teal'c, noting that the Jaffa did nothing more than just raise an eyebrow.

"This could be fun," Daniel said.

He led Teal'c through the gate, emerging in just seconds on PX8987, a planet called Hanka. It was a nice planet, temperate and mild. The natives had a small village a short walk from the gate and that was where they were going to stay. Their plan was, since the planet was secure, for Jack to escort his team to the observatory and introduce them, then he would return to Earth so that he could attend Charlie's birthday party.

Captain Carter was hunched over by the side of the road and Daniel made his way over to her, concerned. Jack was standing beside her. "Oh, I feel sick," she groaned.

"Shouldn't have had that large breakfast," he said, unsympathetic. "Let's go." She nodded and straightened up. Jack moved to point so Daniel moved to walk beside the captain.

Nausea was a common side effect of gate travel, and usually something a person got over. "Don't let him kid you," Daniel said.

"What?"

"The first time he puked," he said, trying to reassure her.

She smiled slightly and nodded. "Thanks."

They walked forward, past a large plywood sign. "Someone from SG-7 should have been here to greet us," Teal'c said.

"They should be prepping the telescope for the big show." He led the way towards the town, his pace casual, his hands resting easily on his weapon. Daniel followed him, his eyes studying their surroundings. The stargate was in the middle of a large clearing, full of small trees and bushes.

As they walked around a bend in the road, Jack abruptly broke into a run, stopping at the side of a man lying beside the road. Jack grabbed his arm and rolled him over, recoiling at the sight. "Oh god! All right MOPP Four."

Daniel stared in horror as Carter and Teal'c put on their masks, only doing do himself when prodded by Jack. "All right, Daniel, you and Teal'c check the village. See why no one's missed this guy, where everyone is. We've got the observatory. All right, move out."

Jack and Carter went off one direction and Daniel followed Teal'c, their peaceful pastoral surroundings now starkly menacing. However that man had died, it hadn't been an accident.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam walked down the road, the soft hiss of air in her hazmat suit a surreal counterpoint to what she was seeing. She could see the trees wave in the breeze, the birds flying by, but couldn't hear them. It was almost like watching a TV on mute.

So far, this mission was horrible. This was supposed to be, well not fun, but definitely not something out of a nightmare. So far, it looked like every single person on the planet was dead. That was about a thousand people. One thousand souls who'd been killed by some mysterious ailment.

"We're supposed to tag the bodies with these," she said, more to fill the silence than anything else. They'd all been briefed about what to do after they'd been cleared by Doctor Fraiser.

"They knew this would happen," Doctor Jackson said, his voice troubled.

"The indigenous people?" Sam asked.

"They told me when we came here three months ago, that with darkness would come the apocalypse. It was part of there mythology, and what did we tell them? It's just an eclipse, and there's nothing to worry about."

They came across a group of corpses and Sam bent down, sliding one of the plastic tags into the woman's stiff fingers. She started to walk away, turning back when a flash of movement caught her eyes. The bushes swayed and she moved closer, trying to see if it was a person or just an animal.

She looked down at the corpse, noting that the plastic tag was gone. "Hello?" she called out. "It's okay, you can come out." The rest of her team joined her. "I know I must look pretty scary in this mask but I'm not going to hurt you. It's okay. Colonel, there's someone in the bushes and they won't come out," she said, belated realizing how silly her words sounded.

The colonel turned to Teal'c. "Show'em your face. Try to look friendly."

Teal'c nodded and walked into the brush. Unlike the rest of them, he wasn't wearing a hazmat suit, his larval goa'uld giving him protection from any contagions that might be in the air.

"We will not hurt you," he said. "Please come out." Sam stood back, resisting the urge to follow him into the brush. "Take my hand," she heard him say. In a few seconds he walked out, leading a young girl. Her small hand was wrapped in his massive one and she stared at them, her eyes wide.

"Good job," the colonel said. "Let's get her back to Fraiser."

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack sat in the telescope room literally twiddling his thumbs. What in the hell was taking them so long? They'd brought the girl into the facility over an hour before and were still waiting to find out if she was going to be all right or if she was a carrier of whatever had killed the rest of her people.

"How can only one person survive?" Daniel asked. "Shouldn't there be more?"

Jack shrugged. "Maybe there were. Maybe they bailed and left her behind?"

"Why would they do that?" Daniel asked.

"Fear can make people choose poorly," Teal'c said.

Jack caught sight of the doc and Carter walking up the hall and got to his feet. "Doc?"

"Well, I have some bad news. The samples show the entire area to be contaminated. It's in the water and the ground. Now the bacteria doesn't seem to be airborne, but it has a unique ability to survive in a variety of enlivenments," she briefed.

"Listen, umm, I hate to sound self-centered here but..."

"Your test's are fine," Fraiser reassured Daniel.

"What of the girl?" Teal'c asked.

"No sign of the infection and as a procession I did an ultrasound to make sure she wasn't parasitly infested with a Goa'uld."

"So she goes back with us?" Jack asked. The doctor nodded.

"Doctor, would it be safe for someone to stay a little while longer? I mean were safe right now aren't we?" Carter asked.

"Captain?"

"Sir, the eclipse happens in less then one day. This is our only opportunity to use this window of darkness, to photograph this black whole with this telescope. It could change the course of human history. I don't want to belittle what's happened here, but if we  
just pack up and leave, SG-7 and all these people will have died for nothing," she said.

As Jack watched, the girl slowly crept down the hall and made her way over to Captain Carter, her hands wrapping around the woman's arm. She half hid behind her, staring at Jack with wide eyes.

"Well, you won't be staying," he said, unwilling to further traumatize the girl by taking her away from the one person she seemed to trust.

"I will remain, I am not at risk," Teal'c volunteered.

"Yeah, I'll stay too," Jack said with a sigh. "Daniel?"

"Yeah."

"I want you to go back with them."

"Umm, Jack…what about tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Birthday party?" he prodded.

"Oh." Jack ran his fingers through his short hair. "You'll just have to call Sara for me. Tell her that I've been delayed." He clicked his fingers. "Oh, do me a favor. Talk to Kawalsky, see if he can pick up the cake."

"Sir, I can—"

"No," Jack interrupted Carter. "You take care of her. Sara will understand…eventually," he said, wishing that it would be different. He wanted nothing more than to call another team in and turn this over to them, but he just couldn't justify it. They still didn't know what had happened here and what another team might be exposed to. He just couldn't do it, couldn't risk someone else's life just so he could eat cake with his son. "Besides, I don't want to go home until I know for sure what I might be bringing with me," he said, rationalizing his decision.

"Sir, I cleared all of your team," the doctor said.

"I know, Doc. Just…I'll stay here with Teal'c. We'll watch the eclipse and then come home when it's over."

XXXXXXXXXX

Teal'c sat in the observatory room, watching as O'Neill struggled to stave off boredom. The human was seated on some steps and, as Teal'c watched, his hands moved restlessly in his lap. "This is fun. Only eight hours to go. Sweet," he muttered.

"I still do not understand this black hole," Teal'c said, more to alleviate O'Neill's feelings of unease. That was another odd habit of his new friends, the human desire to name and explain everything they encountered rather than simply accepting the fact of its existence.

"Well a black hole is this really...big thing. It um...well basically it's uh...massive...hole, out there," he said.

"I see."

"What happens is everything gets sucked into it, even light, that's why we can't see it. Just gets...sucked in."

"Thank you."

"Sure."

"You will not return the child to this planet," Teal'c said after a few minutes.

"What?" O'Neill looked at him. "No. We can't."

"I do not believe it would be…compassionate to find her a home on another planet," Teal'c continued.

"Probably not." O'Neill shrugged. "We'll try and find her a foster home," he said. Teal'c frowned, not recognizing the term. "We'll find someone to take her in and finish raising her," O'Neill explained.

"While I find the Stargate Command sufficient for my needs, I do not believe that the atmosphere is appropriate for a child to live in," Teal'c said.

"It'll have to be someone outside. I can talk to Hammond when we get back. See if he knows someone with enough clearance to adopt a kid."

"Perhaps it would be best if that person was someone from Stargate Command," Teal'c said.

"What makes you say that?" O'Neill asked.

"Only someone who has worked at Stargate Command could truly understand what the child has experienced," he said.

"Yeah, true. But Teal'c, who at the SGC has the ability to take in a kid?" O'Neill said. Teal'c merely looked at the man, hoping that the human would make the next logical conclusion. "Teal'c? What are you thinking?"

"It is often far less stressful upon the child, and the adoptive parents, if that child is brought into a household with other children," he said.

"Other? Teal'c, you're not suggesting that I take her?" O'Neill asked.

Teal'c shrugged. "Very few members of Stargate Command have mates or children. Therefore, there are very few homes to which the child can be assigned."

"Yeah, but, Teal'c I can't just bring home a kid," O'Neill protested.

"I am not suggesting that. However, once it has been determined that the child is not merely a delayed victim to this ailment, and she has acclimated to Earth, she may wish to seek refuge with a person whom she already knows," he said.

"She saw me for three minutes," he protested. "And besides, she liked Carter more."

Teal'c remained silent. It was true that the child had shown a marked preference for the Captain. However, he did not know if that was simply because of the woman's more open demeanor. Children often gravitated towards females over males.

O'Neill fell silent and Teal'c observed him, noting that the man was deep in thought. Perhaps, presuming the child survived, she would be able to make her own choice of which person she preferred to live with.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam sat on the bed, absently running her fingers over Cassie's hair. It wasn't fair. It just….she'd already been through so much, and now she was going to die. What kind of monsters did this to a child?

Cassie stirred and Sam shushed her, hoping to sooth the child back to sleep. That would probably be best, if she just slept until the end. She didn't want to admit just who it'd be best for.

Cassie opened her eyes. "Mom?"

"Hey," Sam said, pasting a smile on her face. "You okay?"

"I was dreaming about my mom," she said softly

"You miss your mom very much?"

Cassie nodded. "I'm tired."

"Well then, you should get some rest. Don't worry; everything is going to be just fine. And when you get better, I promise you I am going to show you all kinds of really wonderful things about this planet," Sam said, quashing any guilt she felt about lying. The girl had already lost so much; Sam couldn't let her last hours be full of fear.

"Promise?"

"You bet." Cassie reached out and Sam pulled her into a hug, the heat from the girl's fever seeping through both her pajamas and Sam's uniform. Sam held her until she felt the girl relax, falling back to sleep. Sam carefully laid her down and got off the bed, tip toeing out of the room.

"How is she?" Sam stopped for a second, surprised to see Doctor Jackson waiting for her. He'd found a chair somewhere and taken up station in the hall, a quickly folded newspaper sliding off his lap as he got to his feet.

"She's fine, sleeping."

"If you want I can sit with her tomorrow, for a few hours," he offered.

"No, we're okay," Sam said.

"Okay."

"I just...I want to do this," she said, feeling the need to explain herself.

"Okay, but I guess what I'm saying is, you don't have to do this alone," he said sincerely.

"Thanks." Sam left him, her only goal to make it to the ladies room around the corner before she burst into tears.

XXXXXXXXXX

"So the Goa'uld's kept SG-7 from coming back through to warn us. All part of the plan," Jack briefed as SG-1 plus General Hammond made their way into the briefing room. It had been close, too close.

He and Teal'c had left the planet just as the goa'uld Teal'c called Nirti attacked Hanka. They had no way of knowing if Teal'c's prediction of the bomb in the girl's chest was accurate or not, but none of them were willing to give it a try.

"So what are we going to do now?" Daniel asked.

"Teal'c, Dr. Frasier says this device inside the girl is on some kind of timer. You're sure it will go off if we send the girl through the Stargate?" Hammond asked.

"We should not attempt it," Teal'c said, echoing Jack's sentiments. "The Earth gate is what the Goa'uld wish to destroy."

"Cassandra's conditioned deteriorated when she got near the Stargate," Carter said.

"Well I can't risk the security of this mountain. Well have the take her someplace else," Hammond said.

"What about the abandoned nuclear facility..."Jack suggested.

"Right. It's just 20 minutes away." Hammond left them, walking quickly into his office.

He picked up the red phone while Jack waited with his team. "This is Major General Hammond; get me the Secretary of Defense immediately. Tell him it's a matter of life and  
death."

While they waited, Jack looked at Daniel and Carter. Both of them were strangely silent, something Jack felt had little to do with the magnitude of their situation. Carter was especially withdrawn, her eyes fixated on the window overlooking the gate room.

Jack looked at Daniel, silently asking him what was wrong with the woman. Daniel glanced over at her, then back at Jack. 'Later,' he mouthed.

"It's all set," Hammond said, hurrying out of his office. "They're expecting you at the front gate and will escort you to the bunker," he instructed.

"Yes, sir," Jack said, looking at his team.

"I'll…go get her," Carter said, her voice low. She hurried from the room and Jack turned to Daniel.

"Daniel?"

"She's gotten attached," Daniel said simply.

"Great," Jack groaned, not surprised but also acknowledging how much easier it would have been had the woman's emotions not been involved. Then again, Jack didn't know if he wanted to work with someone who couldn't care about a dying child. He sighed. "Ok, Daniel, go help her."

"She doesn't want any—"

"I don't care," Jack interrupted. "Go help her. We'll meet you on the surface."

"Ok," Daniel said, hurrying off.

"Daniel?" He turned back. "We don't have much time."

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam sat in the back of the truck, the movement of the tires rocking her slightly. Cassandra, wrapped in a blanket, lay in her lap and Sam took comfort from her weight. What kind of monsters were these goa'uld? They had to be monsters; only a monster would use a child like this.

They'd used her, used all of them. They'd turned the natural human emotion of compassion into a weapon. She hated them. Hated that they'd done such horrible things to Cassandra, hated that she'd been naïve enough to care.

The rest of her team sat around her and she ignored their presence. She didn't want them here. She didn't want anyone to witness her abandon the child, tuck her away like some dirty little secret.

She didn't want their sympathetic looks, didn't want to see the pity in their eyes. Stupid. She'd been so stupid. Detachment. That was what they taught you in the academy. Emotions had no place in the military and she'd let her emotions get in the way.

The truck lurched to a stop and she tightened her grip, struggling to maintain her balance.

The colonel got to his feet and climbed over the edge, reaching up to lower the tailgate. Sam edged forward, Doctor Jackson reaching out to grab her arm. "Let me hold her while you get down," he offered.

She was ready to refuse him, and then realized that there was no way she could get down without risking falling. She handed Cassie over and clambered out of the truck bed, standing close to take Cassie when Doctor Jackson handed the girl to her.

Doctor Jackson jumped down, followed by Teal'c and the four of them hurried into the bunker. "I can take her from here now Captain," the colonel said as they arrived at a large elevator.

"No, sir, it's okay," she said, meeting his eyes.

"Ok," he said after a second. "This elevator goes down 30 floors through solid rock. It takes about 3 minutes to get to the bottom. That gives you four minutes to start back up.," he briefed.

Sam nodded and got into the car, closing her eyes in relief as the doors closed.

She could do this, she told herself. All she needed to do was take Cassandra into the bunker and lie her down. Then just close the door and—the bundle in her arms stirred and Sam felt her stomach drop. "Where are we going?" Cassie asked, her voice weak and breathy.

"Please, go back to sleep," Sam begged.

"I'm not tired anymore," Cassie said, shifting her weight so Sam had to put her down. Oh god, no. Not this. She can't be awake. She can't…they can't expect her to just leave her down here. No, that'd be mean, cruel. "Are you crying?" Cassie asked, and Sam noticed her tears for the first time.

Sam shook her head, not trusting her voice. The elevator stopped and Sam stepped out, turning on the flashlight she was carrying. Cassie trailed her as she opened the large door, the heavy wheel turning easily, despite its age.

The room was stark and barren, a low cement wall its only feature. Dirt, or something, was piled in the corner and Sam guessed that it had been some sort of store room for some kind of bulk goods.

She led Cassie to the wall and helped her sit up on it, tucking the blanket around the girl. It was cold in the bunker, too cold for comfort. It didn't come close to matching the block of ice that was settling in Sam's gut. "Sit down here and rest for awhile, okay? I have to go," Sam said, trying not to scare Cassie any more than she already was.

It wasn't working; Sam could see the fear on the girl's face.

"You promised you'd never leave me alone," she said, her voice wavering.

"I'll come back, okay? I'll be back," Sam promised emptily. Cassie nodded, believing her. "You're very brave, remember?"

Cassie nodded again. "I'm very brave," she repeated.

"I have to close the door." Sam got to her feet and walked out of the room. Sam turned back and looked, the image of the girl sitting alone in the large empty room engraving itself on her brain. Forcing herself, Sam closed the door, hurriedly spinning the circular lock.

Cassie cried out, the door closing scaring her. "Sam? Sam?" She yelled. Hating herself with every step, Sam stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the top floor.

The elevator moved and Sam broke, taking her grief out on the walls.

This wasn't fair. It wasn't right. She was just a little girl. She shouldn't be left alone to die. She shouldn't be dying at all. She should be braiding her hair and playing with Barbie dolls. She should be giggling on the phone to her friends and riding her bike down the street.

She shouldn't be locked up to die alone and abandoned.

God, why couldn't she have stayed asleep? Why couldn't she have had at least that much peace? Why couldn't she have died back on Hanka? So she could be buried with her family, instead of hundreds of light years away.

If only they could have gotten her home. But they couldn't. The closer she got to the gate, the sicker she'd gotten.

Sam stopped, her heart lurching. The closer Cassie had gotten to the gate, the worse she'd become. And the further away, the better.

She struggled to her feet, not even remembering falling down. She dove for the controls, fumbling with the stop button on the elevator. She had to get back down there. She couldn't leave her alone any longer.

The car started to descend and she wiped the tears off her face, her voice hitching in her throat. The door opened and Sam hurried out. She swung the lock around and pulled the door open.

Cassie wasn't crying anymore, but just sitting there, looking small and forlorn. Sam shut the door as the intercom crackled to life. "Captain Carter?" she heard the colonel's voice. "Captain Carter."

She ignored him, knowing that he was going to tell her something she didn't want to hear. "Sam? Do you read me?" he asked, his voice softer.

"Colonel, I'm staying," she answered, knowing that if she didn't, he would be on the elevator in seconds.

"Negative," he answered.

"Colonel, she's awake," she explained, lacking any better explanation.

"Captain, Carter. I am ordering you to get back up here, right now. Right now!" He ordered, all the softness gone from his voice. Sam ignored him and walked over to Cassie, pulling the girl into a hug.

"Are we going to die?" she asked.

"No, we are not going to die," Sam declared, knowing that even if she was wrong, it wouldn't matter.

"We are both very brave," Cassie said, her hand digging into Sam's arm.

"Yeah."

"I love you."

"I love you, too," Sam answered, realizing that she was telling the truth. She loved this child. Loved her as much as if she'd given birth to her herself. A warm sense of peace washed over her and Sam realized that she didn't care if she died. She was here, right where she needed to be. And dying wouldn't be so bad, as long as they were together.

She sat there, feeling the warmth from Cassie's body sink into hers. The room was silent; there was no sound other than their breaths. Sam knew that she should find it spooky and oppressive, but she found it peaceful.

Cassie nestled in, making herself comfortable. Sam slowly stroked her back, taking comfort from the action. "I'm glad you came back," Cassie said, her head buried in Sam's neck.

"So am I," Sam agreed.

Sam's watch beeped, the sound echoing off the walls. The noise startled Cassie and she jumped, pulling away. "What is that?"

Sam smiled, shifting to read the face of her watch. It was blinking four zeros. "That is my watch," she answered, smiling.

"What is a watch?"

"It means that we're going to be ok," Sam said.

"Captain Carter, can you hear me?" The colonel's voice echoed over the speaker. "Sam, can you here me?"

"He sounds scared," Cassie said.

"That won't last for long," Sam said, knowing that it was time to face the music. And, oddly enough, the thought of charges of insubordination didn't scare her in the slightest. She untangled herself from Cassie and got to her feet. With hands that shook slightly, she pushed the button. "We're okay, nothing happened. Cassandra's fine, I'm fine, it didn't happen. I just...I couldn't leave her, sir," she said, feeling the need to explain herself.

"How did you know, Captain?"

"It occurred to me that she first slipped into the coma when we brought her close to the Stargate. As soon as we got her far enough away from the Stargate, she woke up, and I knew." She shrugged, looking back to Cassie.

"You knew?" He asked skeptically. Not in the mood to answer him, Sam left the intercom and returned to Cassie's side.

"Can we leave now?" she asked. "I don't like it here."

"Neither do I," Sam said. "And I think we can leave soon."

"You won't leave me again?" she asked, her hand digging into Sam's sleeve.

"No," Sam said. "I won't. Ever, ever again."

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack made his way up the walk, a dozen calla lilies clutched in his right hand, his duffle bag in his left.

This was definitely not going to be fun. He wasn't just late, he was two days late.

Something he'd promised Sara he wasn't going to be.

She was going to be mad. And he didn't blame her. He had broken a promise, again. Just like he'd done so many times before. But this time it was different. This time he wouldn't have to lie.

In fact, if things worked out, this could be a whole new beginning for them.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, pasting a – I'm really not an asshole – look on his face. He walked in, not surprised to find Charlie sitting on the couch, watching cartoons.

"Dad!" he cried, struggling to his feet. He lurched towards Jack, his normal limp even more pronounced.

"Hey, Sport," Jack said. "You ok?"

"He overdid a little in the pool," Sara answered, stepping out of the kitchen.

"Aah," Jack replied, his face coloring a bit at the censure in her voice. "Charlie, I'm sorry that I missed your party," he said sincerely. "I—"

"Had something important," Charlie interrupted.

"Yes, it was important," Jack agreed. "But also something that I just couldn't get out of." Jack set the flowers on the table and reached into his bag, pulling out a baseball glove. "Here, I got this for you." He handed the glove to his son.

"I can't—"

"Yes, you can," Jack interrupted. "Your doctor said that you needed to exercise your arm and this outta do it." He knelt down and helped Charlie slide the glove onto his stiff left hand.

The boy's lame arm and leg were the lasting physical reminder of the worst day of Jack's life. Sometimes, when he dreamed, he relived that horrible day, hearing again the sharp crack of the pistol, feeling that sickening, gut-wrenching horror as he pulled away from Sara and ran up the stairs, never able to run fast enough.

His fingers were still sticky with his son's blood even hours later when the doctor had spoken to them, breaking the horrible news. Coma. Brain damage. Ten percent chance of survival. Charlie had beaten those odds. Despite the doctor's dire predictions, he'd woken up. After they'd pronounced that he'd never walk or talk, Charlie had again proven them wrong. No, he wasn't a normal thirteen year old boy. And he probably never would be. But Jack was confident that, with enough effort, Charlie would have as normal of a life as possible.

"You use your right hand for throwing," he coached. "You just need to get the glove out to catch the ball. The glove does all the work. You just need to get it there." Charlie nodded slowly, staring skeptically down at his hand. "Tell ya what; I need to talk to your mom for a bit. Why don't you go show Jeff your glove. Then, when I'm done, I'll come out and we'll play a little catch."

"Ok," Charlie agreed. He started towards the door, pausing just long enough to grab his cap.

"Be careful crossing the street," Sara called out. She waited until Charlie was outside and turned to Jack. "You don't need to make anything up," she said. "I don't care."

"Sara—"

"No. This is just like it was before. I should have known better."

"Sara. Sit down," Jack ordered, his brusque tone catching her by surprise. He pulled her towards the sofa and gently shoved her onto the cushions. He sat beside her and took a deep breath.

"Jack?" she frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just need you to listen. What I'm about to tell you is classified under section 11C9 of the National Security Act. That means, if you tell ANYONE what I'm gonna say, it's treason and they can shoot you."

"Ok," Sara nodded slowly.

"Project Bluebook, what I'm working on, is the cover name for the Stargate Project. We work under NORAD, in a secret base called Stargate Command. The main reason for our project is a piece of alien technology called, creatively enough, a stargate."

"You said—"

"Yeah, the deep space radar telemetry is just a cover story. The stargate is a twenty foot tall metal ring that is capable of creating a stable wormhole we can use to travel to other planets." He paused and looked at her, almost smiling at her stunned expression.

"I wish you would have just stuck with 'it's classified hon'", she muttered, getting to her feet. She made her way to the front window and stood there, her attention riveted outside. Jack remained silent, knowing that she needed time to digest what he'd just told her.

"Other planets?" she finally asked.

"Yep."

"How, aah, how many have you been to?"

"Umm,..about a dozen or so."

"Dozen, that's nice."

"Sara?"

"Why now?"

"What?"

"You've been…going to other planets for the better part of a year and I just NOW need to know about it?" she asked, her voice rising.

"You just now need to know about it because you need to answer something I want to ask you," he said, getting to his feet and joining her at the window. Outside, he could see Charlie playing with Jeff. His son's friend was smart and compassionate with Charlie. He seemed to have some innate ability to know just how much, physically, he could push Charlie's limits without hurting him.

"What? Don't tell me that you're going to start some colony or something?"

"No. Nothing like that," Jack reassured her. "Last week, we came across a planet that had been attacked. Everyone was dead, except for one." He glossed over the details. Sara did 'need to know' but it only stretched so far – at least until she agreed to his proposal. "The survivor was a young girl. We think she's about a year younger than Charlie. She can't go home, everyone is dead, so we're looking for someone here to take her in."

"Surely there's a dozen—"

"We can't just pick any old foster home. She IS an alien," he reminded.

"What? Does she have green skin or something?" Sara asked, half in jest.

"No. She's human, just like you and me."

"Then—you want to bring her here," she said, comprehension dawning.

"Yeah. Hon, we have plenty of room and, if I remember right, we'd wanted to give Charlie a little brother or sister."

"Ten years ago," she reminded.

"Better late than never," he retorted. "Look, I know this is a big decision and all but—I think it'll work out.

Sara slowly shook her head. "I don't know—"

"At least meet her," he bargained. "My team and I are going to take her out to the park tomorrow morning. You could tag along, get to know her and make up your mind from there."

Sara stared at him for several seconds before sighing and nodding. "Ok."

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam knocked on the general's door. She hadn't felt this nervous in years. Of course, it'd been a long time since so much had ridden on a simple meeting.

"Come." Sam walked into the room. "Captain, what can I do for you?" he invited, motioning for her to take a seat.

"Thank you, sir," she said, sitting down. "I wanted to talk to you about Cassandra."

"I understood from Doctor Fraiser that the girl was well on her way to a full recovery."

"Yes, sir, she is. This isn't about that."

"Oh?"

"The colonel was talking about how we'd need to find a home for her."

"That's right."

"And that it might be hard because of the classification of the project."

"Yes. Which is why we're hoping that someone within the SGC will agree to take her," he agreed.

"Yes, sir. I'd like to do that," she clarified.

The general stared at her for a few seconds. "I don't know if that will be possible," he said.

"Sir?"

"Colonel O'Neill has already expressed his interest and intent in adopting the girl. In fact, I believe he is talking to his wife about it right now.

Sam slowly shook her head. Where the hell had this come from? Not once had the colonel shown the slightest interest in Cassie. Now, all of a sudden, he wanted to adopt her? It wasn't right. And it wasn't fair.

"With all due respect, sir, the colonel barely knows Cassie. We've spent days together and we've bonded," Sam said.

"I'm aware of that, Captain. Your relationship with the girl is nothing short of remarkable. However, I need to consider the long term benefits for her," he said. "Colonel O'Neill has a large house in a nice neighborhood. His wife is not working and is able to stay home all day. They already have a son close to Cassandra's age and I think it would be a good environment for her."

"Sir, I—"

"Captain. You just moved here a month ago. You don't have anyone in your life to help and there is the matter of your recent past," he said meaningfully.

"General, that was a year ago and in California," she protested. "Things have changed since then."

"I'm sure they have. And I'm sure they'll continue to change. However, I consider Colonel O'Neill to be the best choice to care for Cassandra." He leaned across the desk, his voice softening. "Sam, you're on a field team. How will you care for her when you're off world?"

"There's Pete—"

"Who also works long, unpredictable hours," he interrupted.

Sam started to protest, then closed her mouth, realizing that what she was about to say, she shouldn't be saying to a general, especially her commanding officer.

"May I ask, sir, if Mrs. O'Neill decides not to adopt Cassandra that I be considered?" she asked, deliberately keeping her voice even.

"Your request will be given all due consideration," he replied.

"Thank you," she said stiffly. She got to her feet and waited for him to dismiss her before leaving the room.

She sincerely hoped that the general was right and that the colonel was at home, because if she ran across him right now it would definitely not end well.

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel sat beside Sam on the park bench while Teal'c stood behind them, drawing more than a little attention with the rather remarkable cowboy had he'd chosen to hide the golden tattoo on his forehead. A short distance away, Jack and Sara were playing with Cassie and Charlie, introducing her to the human invention of a swing set.

"So, how sure were you, really?" he asked, grasping any topic to break the oppressive silence. Sam had been subdued all morning, smiling only at Cassie, and even then only when the girl was looking.

"I can't explain it Daniel, I just knew."

"A mother's instinct, perhaps?" Teal'c said.

Sam fell silent, her eyes suddenly riveted upon the ground. "You know, I aah, I think I must have gotten a bad hot dog," she muttered, getting up from the bench.

Daniel watched her go, puzzled by her strange behavior. "What's gotten into her?"

"She called it a hot dog," Teal'c said.

Daniel turned to him and frowned, not quite sure if the Jaffa was serious. Yes, Teal'c was still learning Earth slang, but he was also a lot smarter than he looked.

Charlie yelled and Daniel looked back at the playground. The two children were playing together, now bouncing up and down on the see saw as Jack and Sara watched. "He's gonna take her," Daniel declared, just knowing that there was no way Sara could turn down Cassie now that she'd met the girl.

"That is likely," Teal'c agreed. "However, I do not think that is the outcome Captain Carter was hoping for."

"What?" Daniel turned back to face Teal'c. "Oh my god." He understood now. "She wanted to take Cassie home."

Daniel looked around for Sam, catching sight of her getting into her car, neglecting to even say goodbye to any of them. "I didn't know. And I don't think that Jack did either." It made sense that Sam would want to take Cassie. The two of them had bonded over the past weeks. And Daniel knew that she'd gotten attached. He just hadn't realized how attached.

"I find that likely," Teal'c agreed.

"What happens now?"

Teal'c silently shook his head.

XXXXXXXXXX

Pete looked up as the door opened, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. "Hey," he said as Sam walked into the room. "I talked to my sergeant today." He got to his feet as she walked past him. "They've got this child care program. Yeah, I know this girl is older than most kids in child care, but they said she could come and help them with the little ones. It would only be during the summer, when she's not at school or when both of us are working.

"I know your schedule is a bit crazy, but if we work things right, we can coordinate off days, try to leave her alone as rarely as possible. Things are a little cramped right now, but I talked to a friend of mine. He thinks that the attic could be finished off quite easily. She could have her own room and everything."

He stopped, suddenly realizing that she wasn't responding. "Sam?" Is something wrong?"

She ignored him, her gaze riveted on the far wall. "Sam?" He sat beside her, taking her hand in his. It reminded him of the first time he'd ever seen her, covered in blood, some of it hers, shocked and shaking on a worn down sofa.

This wasn't quite the same. There was no sheet shrouded body this time. "Sam? Tell me what's wrong. Is Cassandra ok? She didn't get sick again?"

"Colonel O'Neill…" She stopped and took a deep breath. "He's got a wife and son and a nice big house. He'll probably even get a dog," she said, her voice flat. "It'll be a much nicer home for her than a woman living with a man who's been accused of murdering her husband."

"Oh Sam." He wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so sorry."

"I wanted her," she whispered. "I really, really wanted her."

He held her, his tears mingling with hers. It wasn't fair, it just wasn't fair.

Fin


	2. Chapter 2

Evolution: Sacrifices

By

Denise

Daniel looked over at Sam, not surprised to find her staring off at the far wall. He was used to seeing her like that lately, quiet and pensive.

He was sure Jack had noticed her change in the six weeks since he and Sara had adopted Cassie. Then again, maybe he hadn't.

Between taking time off to help the girl acclimate, their rescue of the Tollan, things had been a bit busy. Not to mention that whole mess with Harlan and his super duper human Xerox machine.

And Daniel also knew that Sam had been keeping her distance, refusing every one of Jack's invitations for get-togethers at his house. She'd been deliberately staying away and Daniel knew why. Not only did he feel that being with Cassie was painful for her, Daniel also knew that she was doing her best to stay out of the way. Sam had a close bond with the girl, a bond that would likely make forming a relationship with her new family even more difficult.

Daniel wondered if he should talk to Jack, mention Sam's mood to him. Then again, if Jack hadn't noticed it, it obviously wasn't much of a problem.

The gate started to spin just as Jack walked into the room, Teal'c at his heels. "You kids ready for an absolutely thrilling time on P4a771?" he asked, pulling his ball cap onto his head.

"Yes, sir," Sam replied dutifully.

Jack didn't seem to notice her mood and Daniel made a mental note to say something. Later. After they got back. He may still be a novice at all this military stuff, but he knew enough to know that there was a time and place for everything. And personal conversations definitely had no place on a mission.

"The planet looks interesting," he said to Sam, resolving to do whatever he could to help her mood.

She was doubtlessly depressed and he didn't blame her in the slightest.

He'd seen how attached she'd gotten to Cassie and could only imagine how hard it would be, not just to lose her, but to lose her to a teammate. A teammate that out ranked her and to whom, she didn't dare say anything.

Oh, Daniel didn't think that Jack would retaliate or anything. But Daniel had learned enough about Sam in the past few weeks to know that she'd rather say nothing than risk making things worse.

"What? Oh right," she said, smiling a bit.

"You know, I hate going to the movies alone. I can never eat the popcorn. Want to go with me when we get back?" he asked? As the fifth chevron locked.

"Umm…"

"Two friends going to the movies," he clarified. "Pete can even come if he wants to."

"That sounds good," she said. "The movie part. Pete can fend for himself." The wormhole splashed open. "Besides, he's working third shift right now. I haven't even seen him in days."

"That's got to be tough," Daniel said, moving to walk beside her up the ramp. Jack and Teal'c were in the front and Daniel ignored Jack's irritated look.

Sam shrugged. "His shifts rotate a lot. The price of being low man on the totem pole."

"Look alive, kids," Jack warned, calling an end to the chatter.

Sam colored and fell silent, shooting Daniel a look. "Oops," he mouthed, glad when the gesture made her grin.

They followed Jack and Teal'c through the gate, stepping out at the end of a long row of double stone columns. The sky was a dark purple with gray swirling clouds. "Pleasant place," Jack quipped, turning a slow circle as the stargate snapped shut. "Ok, where are we headed?"

"The MALP indicated—" Sam broke off as a brilliant beam of light flashed over her head, barely missing it. She ducked, her hand grabbing Daniel's arm to pull him down.

"O'Neill!"

"Cover fire!" Jack ordered, falling to his knees. "Daniel!"

"Got it," Daniel said, pulling free and crawling towards the DHD.

A near constant barrage of laser like blasts flew over his head, echoed by the cracks of Jack and Sam's rifles and the heavy whump of Teal'c's staff weapon. "Where are they coming from?" Sam yelled.

"They fire from all sides," Teal'c said.

"Close up. Daniel, open the damn gate!"

Daniel reached the DHD and stretched up, trying to get at the glyphs without getting his head blown off. He slammed his hand down on each panel, not even feeling when his palms bruised. He pressed in the center stone and looked up; staring in amazement as the stargate opened at the same time it was hit with several blasts from the alien weapons.

He dug for his wrist, shoving up his sleeve and punching in the iris code. "Come on, come on," he muttered as he stared at the GDO. "Yes!" he said as the confirmation flashed. "We're clear!" he yelled.

"Daniel, Teal'c, GO!" Jack yelled. He and Sam were on opposite sides, each behind a column. Teal'c was in the middle, crouching but exposed. Daniel wanted to argue, to say that they all should go at once, but he didn't.

Instead he scrambled to his feet, breaking into a dash as he struggled to run and keep down at the same time. More blasts zinged past him, some going through the gate and others hitting it.

Reaching the event horizon, he threw himself forward, knowing that he was due for one hell of a landing.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack slowly opened his eyes, trying to remember the last time he'd been this uncomfortable. Where the hell was he? He tried to sit up, groaning out loud.

"Colonel..." Carter's voice echoed off the walls.

"Carter..." Jack looked around, trying to see her.

"Try to stay put sir, I think your leg's broken," she said, coming to his side. Whatever had happened, happened to both of them. She had a small scrape on her cheek.

"No, my leg's definitely broken. This is bad news, 'cause unless they've redecorated the 'gate room I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," he said, looking at their surroundings. They were in some sort of cave. It was dark and cold and the air was still and close.

"Daniel must have misdialed."

"Misdialed? You mean this place is a wrong number? Ah, for crying out loud. Where is he?" he asked, the absence of the other two teammates sinking in.

"He's not here, sir. Neither is Teal'c."

"No, he has to be," Jack muttered. It didn't make any sense that they weren't here. The gate had been dialed. Teal'c and Daniel went through first. It never shut down, so that meant that he and Carter had to be in the same place as the other two. She had to have missed them. Maybe she hit her head too hard. He reached for his radio.

"Yeah, I tried that," she interrupted. "You've been unconscious for nearly two hours." Ok, so maybe he'd hit his head harder than she had.

"They came through the 'gate before we did," he insisted, trying to make sense of the whole mess.

"I know that, I also know we're alone here, wherever here is," she agreed.

"Ice. Nice."

"Yeah, I think we're inside a deep crevasse of a glacier. If their Stargate's been overrun by ice, possibly on a planet in the middle of an ice age. Now, there is some light filtering through up there and there are some fissures in the ice, but all of them are too narrow to follow very far," she listed off. She sighed. "We're in trouble, sir."

"Oh, nonsense," Jack said, feeling the need to try and lighten her bleak mood. Maybe she was right and their situation was dire. But Jack knew from experience if she let it get to her, they may as well just take out their pistols and end it now. "We'll just dial home and straighten all this out," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He looked around, belatedly wondering why, if the solution was so obvious, she hadn't thought of it. "Where's the DHD?"

"Can't find that either," she said.

"Oh, so, uh, we're in trouble."

"We're in trouble," she confirmed.

XXXXXXXXXX

Teal'c sat beside the bed, letting the routine noises of the infirmary wash over him. He was not accustomed to the emotions he was feeling. Frustration and unease.

He acknowledged that there was little he could do to assist O'Neill and Captain Carter until Sergeant Siler and his crew repaired the Stargate. And he acknowledged that, even once the Stargate was repaired, given the resistance they faced on their first mission, the odds of finding his two teammates alive and well lessened with each moment.

On the bed, Daniel Jackson stirred and Teal'c leaned closer.

"Teal'c?" he asked groggily.

"The Stargate has malfunctioned. We came through the 'gate at too great a velocity," he reported.

"Jack and Sam?"

"They did not follow," Teal'c said.

"Yes, they did. I know they did," he insisted. "They were right behind us. That doesn't make any sense."

"I concur. In a few hours, a probe will be sent back in an attempt to determine their fate."

Daniel Jackson nodded slowly, his hand coming up to cradle his injured head. "Pete and Sarah?"

"Daniel Jackson?"

"Has anyone told Pete and Sarah?"

"I am not aware," Teal'c said.

"They need to know." He blinked slowly, his voice scratchy.

"Our mission was not to end for two more days. And Sergeant Siler has reported that the stargate will be operational soon. Should we not wait until we have a definitive answer," he suggested.

"Maybe you're right," he agreed, sinking back onto the pillows.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam hacked away at the ice, ignoring how the muscles in her arm were shaking. Trying to get to the DHD was serving a dual purpose. Not only could it lead to them finding a way out of this ice cave from hell, it also warmed her up.

Of course, she tried to ignore the fact that she'd been hacking away at the encasing ice for hours. She was cold, wet, tired and desperately wanted nothing more than to just curl up and sleep for a few hours.

But she couldn't do that. The colonel was injured. Far worse than he let on, she knew. And if they were going to get out of here, it was going to happen because of her.

She didn't understand her conflicted emotions. She should hate him, should be pissed as hell at him. She should consider this some kind or karmedic payback for him taking Cassie from her.

But she couldn't.

She HAD to get them out of this mess. Had to get the colonel back home to his family. Not because of Sarah. The woman was nice enough and Charlie was an adorable boy. But Cassie. She couldn't go through it again. She just lost her whole family, and she wasn't going to lose her new father.

"Soups on," the colonel called out.

"Just a little more, I'm almost through," she said, taking a couple more swipes at the ice.

"Come on now, you don't want to get cold," he insisted.

Giving into the tone of his voice, she set down her knife and slid off down the slope. Food did sound good. Lunch had been…way too long ago. "I didn't know you could cook," she said.

"I can't, but my melted ice is to die for."

"Thank you." She took a sip of the tepid soup, staring at him. He was paler than he'd been before. His brow was furrowed and his lips were pinched. "Sir, maybe I should have another look at you," she offered.

"No, I'm fine. Eat," he dismissed.

"I've been thinking about how the Stargate might have malfunctioned," she said, accepting his boundaries.

"Yeah?"

"Well, we don't totally understand how it works, but the theory we have so far is that the 'gate creates an artificial wormhole, that somehow transfers an energized matter stream in one direction along an extra-dimensional conduit. I think the matter stream between Stargates got redirected, kind of like a lightning bolt jumping from one point to another  
in mid-strike. Now, I figure it had to have been the attack on P4A-771. The 'gate itself was probably struck by enough energy during the firefight to influence the direction of the matter stream before we reached the other side," she recited, voicing her thoughts from the past few hours. It seemed silly to be trying to figure out why and how…but it was better than thinking about the other options…the fact that they'd never live to see the outside of this place. "Colonel?" she asked, noticing that his gaze was fixed on the far wall of the cave.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't listening," he apologized.

"What I'm saying is we must have emerged through a Stargate relatively close to Earth in the 'gate network, somewhere between P4A-771 and Earth. Now, if the SG rescue teams reach the same conclusion, it could significantly reduce their search."

"That's good news," he muttered.

"Yeah," she agreed. She sipped more of the soup, sucking down the small noodles. She hated dehydrated chicken soup. For the first few months after her mother had died, it was one of the few things her father had been able to cook. Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, Lipton Soup and Swanson TV dinners had been a staple of her late childhood.

Pete used to say that she should find them 'comfort foods'. And maybe she would. If most of their mealtimes hadn't been battle zones between her father and her brother.

"Pete still working nights?" the colonel asked after a few minutes.

"Yeah," she said. "For another week or two I think."

"You know Hammond probably won't even contact them until we're over due," he reassured her.

She shrugged. "All he can tell him is that I'm delayed or MIA," she said.

He frowned, turning to look at her. "You mean he doesn't know?" he asked.

"Of course he doesn't know," she said, setting down her cup. "This project is classified."

"Wow. I thought—"

"I take my oath seriously, sir," she interrupted, hurt that he thought she'd take her job so lightly. If that was one thing her father had drilled into her head, Top Secret meant SECRET.

"No, not that," he said. "I just thought with Cassie and all…I thought you told him."

"No," she sighed. "I told him that she was a refugee, I just didn't say from where. I wanted to get the general's permission before…" She got to her feet. "I should get back to work on the DHD," she said.

"Carter—"

"If I get it working soon, we won't have to worry about notifications," she said, ignoring him.

"Carter—"

"Thanks for the soup, sir. I need to get back to work." She turned her back and made her way back to the DHD, ignoring him. Why couldn't she have gotten trapped with Teal'c?

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel stood in front of the large glass map, using it to order his thoughts. His head pounded and he fought the urge to rub his forehead. He knew all it would do would make his stitches hurt worse. "Okay, so if they are not there, and they are not here..." he muttered, trying to think through the pain. Besides, the last thing he needed was to get Teal'c to feel the need to escort him back down to the infirmary. Daniel couldn't help his friends if he was stuck down there.

"It is possible that they might have perished within the wormhole," Teal'c said, his voice amazingly calm.

"Yeah, in which case they're gone. I know, I thought of that. But if they are alive, if there's the least remote possibility that this malfunction sent them to another Stargate..."

"Was it not Captain Carter who deduced the possible combinations of Stargate symbols numbered in the millions?" Teal'c asked.

Daniel sighed. "Well, we have to narrow it down," he insisted. He stared at the white dots on the glass panel. So many; incredibly many places Jack and Sam could be. How could they find them when there was so much of the universe to search?

"However, just because there are millions of combinations, it does not mean that each corresponds to a working stargate," Teal'c said.

Daniel turned to look at him, recognizing his friend's attempt to cheer him up. "Yeah," he said softly.

"Are there plans to inform Captain Carter and O'Neill's families?" Teal'c asked.

"Eventually," Daniel said. "I think General Hammond is going to wait, give them a chance to get back." Daniel stared at Teal'c, silently daring him to refute his words. Sam and Jack WERE coming back. He refused to accept any other outcome.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam shivered and tried to snuggle closer to the colonel. Lord, she was cold. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been warm.

She slipped her hand down between them and felt for his wrist, sliding her fingers under the sleeve of his jacket, feeling for his pulse. It was slow, which she wasn't sure was good or bad. But at least it was there. That had to count for something.

She craned her neck, trying to see the DHD. She should get up there, dig through the rest of that ice and see if she could get it to work. But he was right, they'd been awake for….a while. She was tired, more tired than when she'd crammed for her finals.

And besides, it was a little warmer here.

"Captain, much as I might otherwise think this is nice." His voice was low, almost a harsh whisper.

"Sshhh, try to sleep," she said.

"Is that what we were doing?"

"You were exhausted, you passed out. I just thought we had to combine body heat or we wouldn't make it through the night," she said, feeling the need to explain. He'd scared her when he'd done that. Just keeled over and slumped on the ice. For a few horrible seconds, she'd thought that he was dead and that she was now all alone here.

"That's fine, it's just really hard to sleep with broken ribs when someone's lying on you," he gasped.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," she said, hurriedly shifting of him.

"That's better."

"Sleep for a few hours and I'll fix the DHD," she urged him.

"Okay. Night," he agreed, alarmingly agreeable. His hand relaxed and slid off his leg, landing squarely on her thigh.

"Night...Oh...Colonel…" she said as his fingers flexed, digging into her skin.

"It's my sidearm, I swear," he groaned, trying to make light of the situation. His hands had to be cramping, just like hers were, the cold taking its toll on their muscles.

Despite the direness of their situation, she giggled. Colonel O'Neill was one of the few people she knew that could make jokes at the darndest times. He reminded her of her dad in a way. At least the way she remembered him, years ago before her mom died.

She remembered occasionally looking around the lintel, hearing him talking to her mom, honing his gallows humor.

"No giggling, please," he requested.

"If we don't make it, I won't have any regrets, you?" she asked, feeling the need to say something. He may be confident that they'd get out of here, but she wasn't. Confidence didn't change odds. And, unless she could get an alien device that she barely understood to work in the immediate future, they were going to die here.

"I'll regret dying," he said softly. "I promised the kids I'd take them to Denver this weekend. You?"

She sighed. "No plans for the weekend," she said.

"Carter."

"I regret marrying Jonas," she confessed.

"Jonas?" he asked, clearly confused.

"I met him five years ago. Got married." She shook her head, not wanting to go into the whole sordid story. "It was a mistake. A very bad, very stupid mistake."

"How does Pete fit in?"

"I'm not married anymore," she said. "Pete's just a friend." She snuggled in closer, careful to keep her weight off him. "Go to sleep, sir."

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel stuck a post-it note on the glass map, trying to organize his thoughts. He heard footsteps and turned, catching sight of General Hammond walking into the room.  
"Dr. Jackson?"

"We just received probe telemetry from P5C-11 and 12, neither of them have a breathable atmosphere any more. If they ever did," he reported.

"I have formally reported Colonel O'Neill and Captain Carter as missing in action," the general said, revealing the true reason for his visit.

"Why?" Daniel asked, recognizing the significance of the man's words. Missing. They weren't lost, they were missing. How did people go missing? It wasn't like a ring of keys that vanished and were found under the couch cushions.

"Missing in action doesn't mean we stop looking, son," he said reassuringly.

"What about Sara and Pete?" Daniel asked.

"An officer will be sent—"

"General, you know what Sara will think when she sees someone in a uniform walking up to the house?" Daniel asked.

"Doctor Jackson, we have our traditions and our ways," he said. "Sara O'Neill and Peter Shanahan deserve to know."

Daniel sighed. "Can I tell them?" he asked, not sure why he was moved to interfere. No, he knew why. It could have been him. Jack was always the last through the gate, always insuring the safety of his team over his own. Maybe if he'd dialed out faster they could have made it back.

He needed to tell Sara and Pete. He owed them that much.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Hammond asked.

Daniel nodded. "I am."

The general sighed, looking away for a few seconds. "Ok," he finally said. "You can go. But, I must warn you, while Mrs. O'Neill is entitled to know some of the details, Mister Shanahan is not."

"General—"

"It's non-negotiable," he interrupted. "All Mister Shanahan can know is that Captain Carter was on a training mission and that she is missing in action." He looked Daniel in the eyes. "He cannot know more. Do you understand me, Doctor?"

Daniel nodded. "Ok."

"I'll send Colonel Rundell down here to get you when he's ready to go," he said.

Hammond turned and walked out of the room, leaving Daniel alone. Too edgy to just wait, he studied his post-its. He still couldn't lose the feeling that he was missing something.

XXXXXXXXXX

"If you two can't share, I'm going to unplug the game," Sara threatened as the pair of childish voices rose in volume.

What the hell was Jack thinking? One play station and two kids was a recipe for bickering. Of course, he probably had no idea how sought after the game was, seeing as how he was usually the one playing it when he was home.

"I'm trying to show Cassie how to find the magic key. But she won't let me," Charlie complained.

"Maybe she wants to figure it out for herself," Sara said, squatting beside him on the living room floor. Cassie sat on his other side, her gaze riveted to the TV screen as her fingers clutched the controller.

She was adapting quickly, this young girl from an alien planet. It hadn't taken her long to grasp the concept of electricity, running water and refrigeration.

Other things weren't coming quite so fast, such as learning to read.

But this was one place where Sara had gotten a surprise. Her first fear, upon adopting Cassie, had been that Charlie might be jealous or have issues.

Instead, Cassandra seemed to have just the opposite effect. Charlie had embraced the role of big brother with an enthusiasm Sara hadn't thought possible.

Charlie tutored Cassie, helped her catch up learning about her new home. And, Sara thought, Cassie was helping Charlie as well. It seemed that, since Charlie was concentrating more on Cassie, he was concentrating less on his own problems. Little things that he used to obsess about now seemed to slip his mind. Instead of defining himself by his limitations, he concentrated more on being a big brother and protector. "But mom—"

"Charlie. How do you feel when we do things for you?" she asked.

"Mom—"

"How do you feel?" She pressed.

"I can—"

"You don't like it, do you?" She knew that he got frustrated a lot, especially when they helped him with things like tying his shoes or zipping his coat.

"No," he admitted grudgingly.

"Then you're just going to have to be patient," she said, giving him a quick, one armed hug.

"Ok. Hey mom?"

"What?"

"Maybe Santa could bring Cassie her own play station?" he suggested.

"And how will we hook up two play stations to one TV if he does that?" she asked, smiling at him. Incorrigible was his middle name.

"Buy another TV?" he suggested, grinning at her.

"Careful mister, or you're going to end up mowing the yard," she threatened. She heard a car door slam and looked up, frowning at the sight of Doctor Jackson and another man walking up the front walk.

Her stomach flipping and her heart lurching, she got to her feet, suddenly desperate to keep them out of her house. Something was wrong. She just knew it. Jack should have been home a few hours ago.

She walked towards the front of the house, hoping that the kids wouldn't notice what was going on. She opened the door to find Doctor Jackson standing there, his hand outstretched. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Sara—"

"Is he alive?" she demanded, stepping outside and pulling the door shut behind her.

"Mrs. O'Neill—" the other man said. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Tom Rundell—"

"Is Jack alive?" she asked again, looking Jackson in the eyes.

"Maybe we should go inside," he said.

"My children are inside," she said. "Now will you tell me what's going on or do I need to go call General Hammond?"

Doctor Jackson sighed. "We were on a mission. We came under fire. Teal'c and I made it home, Jack and Sam didn't." The world dimmed around the edges and Sara swayed, barely noticing as Doctor Jackson's hands shot out, steadying her and easing her down to sit on the porch steps. "We went back to the planet," he continued. "And we didn't find them. But we don't think they're there. We think that the wormhole hopped to another gate. We just need to find out which planet they were sent to," he said quickly.

She nodded, her eyes scanning the neighborhood. It was surreal. Mrs. Johnson was mowing her yard. Sandy Kellerman's dog was pulling on his chain, barking as Eddie and Randy rode their bikes past the Kellerman's yard.

She could hear the tinkling music of the ice cream truck a block over and smell the lighter fluid from Roger Walker's grill.

"Mrs. O'Neill, is there someone I can call?" Rundell offered.

"You didn't find their bodies?" she asked, grasping onto that one fact.

"No," Jackson said. "And we're not going to stop looking," he reassured her.

She nodded slowly, clasping her shaking hands in her lap. "Mom?" Charlie's voice came from behind her. "What's wrong?"

She turned and saw both kids standing in the doorway, Charlie in front and Cassie hovering behind him. Both of them looked scared to death.

She couldn't do this, not right now. She couldn't abandon them. Not when they needed her the most. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. She turned back to look Doctor Jackson in the eyes. "You will let me know when you find something," she told him, pushing herself to her feet.

"Sara?"

"My children need me," she said. "I appreciate you coming to tell me." She forced a small smile on her face. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

She turned her back on them and ushered the kids into the house, quietly closing the door. "Mom?" Charlie asked.

"It's going to be ok," she said. "Why don't you and Cassie play a few more rounds and then we're going to go out and get some pizza." Charlie frowned, obviously knowing that something was wrong. "Take care of your sister for me for a few minutes, ok?"

He nodded. "Come on. It's your turn," he said, dragging the girl back into the living room.

Hearing the game re-start, Sara slowly made her way down the hall and into her bedroom. She shut the door and slid down to the floor. "Jack, what the hell have you done now?" she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam slammed her hand down on the DHD panel, barely feeling the shock as it shuddered up her arm. "God, why won't you work!" she yelled, giving her frustration voice. This didn't make any sense. Why the hell wouldn't it work? It was just a DHD, not a Cray supercomputer. For it being a massively complex machine, it was also incredibly simple. There were no moving parts to break or get out of alignment, just a simple arrangement of crystals.

"Carter, Carter..." The colonel's voice crackled over the radio and Sam immediately abandoned the DHD, hurrying back to him.

"Colonel! Sir?"

"I'm usually the first one up," he said, his voice low and slightly confused.

"You're bleeding internally, I don't know how badly. Your broken leg may already be frostbitten, I can't tell. I've been trying to warm it up with the last of our cooking sterno but that's about had it," she said, knowing that he wouldn't appreciate her deceiving him.

He'd scared her this morning, or more accurately, when she'd woken up. She remembered opening her eyes, her body's ceaseless shivering pulling her from her restless slumber.

She'd tried to wake him, panicking a bit when he didn't respond, revealing that he wasn't asleep but unconscious. With him unable to protest, she confirmed her suspicions, pulling up his shirt to reveal livid bruises painting his ribs with garish color.

She should have known, especially given how he'd guarded his ribs earlier. And it was just like him to pretend that he wasn't hurt. The damn man, he'd have her head if she'd done that, hidden an injury.

"What's the bad news?" he asked, picking up on her mood. "Help me up."

"No, Sir, you need to heal. That's an order," she said, tossing protocol out the window.

"I give the orders around here."

"Doctor's orders," she corrected, taking the pan of water off their small sterno cooker. "I want you to drink as much of this as you can. Once that sterno dies, we won't be  
able to thaw any more," she instructed, helping him drink. She was a bit thirsty, but he needed it more. The way he was losing blood, he was sure to be dehydrated. "I should have gotten you out of here by now, I'm sorry," she said, feeling the need to apologize. She never should have listened to him, never should have slept. They were fighting the clock and she'd wasted time that he didn't have.

"You will, you will," he reassured her.

"I have been working on the control panel for the last twelve hours, it just, I don't know why it won't work, it should work! I…I'm missing something.

"Captain," he interrupted her ramblings.

"Sir?"

"It's time to go to plan B."

"What would plan B be?" she asked.

"You take the rest of the supplies and climb out of here. Take your chances up on the planet, head towards daylight," he instructed.

"If I can't get that Stargate to work, we will BOTH go," she said, refusing to accept his idea. She wasn't going to leave him behind to die.

He sighed. "Ok. I'll race you," he muttered. "Carter?" he grabbed for her hand. "I'm sorry about Cassie. I didn't even stop to think—"

"It's ok," she interrupted. "She's happy, that's what counts."

He slowly shook his head. "You—"

"You and General Hammond did what you thought was best," she interrupted again. "I'm going to go see if I can get the DHD to work. You just stay here and aah…keep an eye on the fire."

"We don't have a fire."

"Then it'll be easy." She forced a smile on her face. "I'll be right over there."

She turned and crawled back towards the DHD, surprised to discover that her anger over Cassie's adoption had faded. Maybe things had worked out for the best. At least, if the worst happened, she'd still have one parent left.

Sam had no illusions how thing would play out if she'd gotten Cassie and something happened to her. She and Pete weren't married, and weren't likely to ever get married. Which, even though the general hadn't said as much, had to be one reason why she'd been denied? Not to mention Pete's job and lifestyle.

If Sam had been granted custody of Cassie and something happened to Sam in the line of duty, she knew that Cassie wouldn't be allowed to remain with Pete. She'd get uprooted again, given to someone else, passed around like a traveling trophy.

Giving Cassie to the O'Neill's had been the best decision. No matter how much Sam hated it, she had to admit that point.

She glanced over her shoulder, just catching sight of the blanket wrapped figure lying on the floor. She hadn't been able to do anything about Cassie's first family, but she sure as hell could do something about her second family.

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel stood in the control room, studying the star map. Somewhere. They had to be out there somewhere. He refused to consider the idea that they could have perished within the wormhole.

That just didn't feel right. It didn't feel like they were gone, just that they were missing.

"Daniel Jackson." Teal'c joined him. "I presume you have informed Sara O'Neill and Peter Shanahan of O'Neill and Captain Carter's status," he said.

"Yeah," Daniel said. "Sara didn't take it well."

"That is to be expected," he said.

"Pete aah, well Pete was asking a lot of questions. Stuff I couldn't answer. He knows that something more is going on. I had to warn General Hammond that he might start digging on his own," Daniel said.

"There would be no need for such concerns were the Stargate's existence not kept from the people of Earth," Teal'c said.

Daniel sighed. "I know. But that's not my decision to make. Teal'c, as much as I hate the secrecy, I do see the need for it."

"How so?"

"We're a rather…greedy race," Daniel said. "If the other countries found out that we had the Stargate, they'd want to get it for themselves."

"Perhaps Earth would be better served if that were to happen. It is my understanding that the nations of your planet often fight amongst themselves. If they had a common enemy—"

"It wouldn't, Teal'c. I don't think they're capable of setting aside their differences long enough to agree to get along," Daniel said.

"The day may soon come when there is no choice," Teal'c warned.

Daniel started to respond, and then stopped as a low rumble shook the complex. He instinctively looked out the window, frowning as he saw the chevrons glow for a few seconds, then fade. "Teal'c. Did you see that?"

"I did," Teal'c confirmed. "I do not know its significance."

"I do," Daniel said; a smile crossing his face as a thought occurred to him. "I was thinking that I must be missing something, and now I just realized we ruled out a world we shouldn't have."

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack felt Carter join him and he forced his eyes open. "I guess it didn't work," he said, reading the look on her face. If she'd succeeded, she'd be smiling.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

"Not your fault," he absolved. He could blame her for this. Then again he could blame Daniel for not dialing faster, Hammond for assigning the mission to them. Hell, he could blame Sara for letting him un-retire. The blame game accomplished nothing.

"I don't understand why it won't work!" she ranted.

"Captain, plan B, go," he said, forcing his voice to sound strong.

"No, Sir," she protested, shaking her head.

"Sam, I'm dying. Follow my order, please," he begged. He knew that he wasn't exaggerating. He could feel his body shutting down. His arms and legs were long since numb, and he knew it had little to do with the cold. His heart was slowing and it was getting hard to breathe and think.

He could feel the sticky gurgle of fluid in his lungs and knew that it was just a matter of time before he drowned in his own blood.

"Sir!" she protested.

"Please," he repeated, knowing the one word that would get through her defenses. He wasn't pleading to his second in command, or to a fellow officer, but to a friend. With him, she was doomed. Without him, she at least stood a fighting chance. "Someone needs to tell Sara what happened," he said, staring her in the eyes. "She deserves that much."

"I will," she promised. "There has to be something out there. I'll go find help and bring it back."

"You do that," he said, knowing that, even if she found something, it would be too late for him. They had yet to come across any planet with any decent level of technology. He knew the most she'd be able to hope for was to find some indigenous people and a way to survive with them. But at least it was better than staying in here and ending up like that Jaffa they'd found.

She got to her feet and started gathering what was left of their supplies. Idly, he watched her, noting the stiffness of her movements. He hoped that she made it. She deserved to.

It only took her a few minutes to stuff a few things in her pack and she returned to his side. "Colonel?"

"Have a nice climb," he said.

"I'll be back, sir. I promise you, I'll be back."

"None of this is your fault, Sam," he said. "Say hi to Cassie and Charlie when you get back."

"I will."

"Now get your ass out of here."

She nodded, pulling a canteen out of her pack and putting it by his hand. "There's not a lot, but it should last you until I get back."

He didn't correct her, letting her keep the fantasy that he'd last more than a few hours. She got to her feet and stood at the base of the wall. She craned her neck, studying the path of her ascent before turning back for one last look before she started to climb.

Jack watched her for a few minutes, then he closed his eyes, letting himself imagine the weekend in Denver. Memories that he knew would never exist anywhere but in his mind, but memories that he let lull him into a deep and final sleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam broke through the thin layer of snow, squinting as bright light assaulted her eyes. Cold air struck her face and she knew that she'd made it out of the fissure.

Pushing the pack out in front of her, she climbed out of the hole and got to her feet, trying to ignore how much her knees were shaking. She'd made it. Finally, she'd made it.

Her thoughts flew back to the colonel, lying down in that cave. He was dying. He hadn't wanted her to realize it, but she knew. She'd seen it before, watched a man bleed to death inside his own body. She knew exactly what it looked like.

_Say hi to Charlie and Cassie when you get back._

She'd do that. She'd do better. She'd make damn sure he got back too.

The reflected sunlight making it hard to focus, she studied her surroundings. Everywhere they'd ever been, people settled close to the Stargate. They had to be here. Had to be somewhere close. She just needed to find them. That's all she needed to do. Find help.

Snow… that was all she could see, snow and rocks and sky. Nothing. No sign of anyone.

No. That wasn't right. There had to be someone here. A glint of light caught her attention and she turned, staring hard into the distance. Was that movement? Movement meant that someone had to be there.

Choosing that direction, she started to walk, her legs sinking into the deep snow. She stared at the flickering light. She couldn't lose it. It was so easy to get lost in this featureless landscape. She couldn't afford to get lost. That would take time, and the colonel didn't have any extra time.

Fixated on her goal, she never noticed the thin crust of snow. Never realized that, what looked like a ledge was nothing more than a fragile sheet of ice, incapable of bearing any weight. And by the time she discovered her error, it was too late. The last thought through her brain as she tumbled down the side of the mountain was not that she would die alone, but that Pete was going to be really pissed with her. She never told him that she'd sent his favorite leather jacket off to the cleaner's.

XXXXXXXXXX

"It was right where your man said it'd be, General," the captain said, leading them into the base. "My men just flew to the coordinates and dropped right down into the fissure."

He pushed open a door and Daniel followed the general with Teal'c at his heels. "You would not believe what they found down there—"

"Actually, son, I would," General Hammond said. "What your men found is classified. They are to forget that they found anything and secure the perimeter until a team from Cheyenne Mountain gets here," he ordered. "We'll take care of the clean-up."

"Whatever you say, sir," Captain Jordan said. "Although, as you can imagine, we don't get many drop in visitors round here."

"Really? I never would have guessed," Daniel said, frustrated with the man's chatter. As fascinating as it could be, he didn't care how many people the Antarctic Air Base McMurdo got or didn't get. All he cared about was seeing his friends and finding out if they were ok or not.

It still seemed to be the ultimate irony, after searching a couple dozen planets scattered over hundreds of light years, the two missing members of SG-1 had been found right here on Earth.

Captain Jordan shot him a look, and then sighed. "I'll brief my people on the importance of not seeing anything, sir," he said.

"That would be appreciated, Captain," General Hammond said. "Now my people—"

"Our infirmary is this way, sir." He directed them down a narrow corridor. The McMurdo base was a lot smaller than the SGC and seemed to be little more than a small collection of sturdy buildings definitely designed with stability in mind, not finesse.

"They're lucky. Major Marshall, our doctor, did a stint in a trauma ward. He's one hell of a surgeon," he introduced, leading them into a small infirmary. It was even more compact than the one at the SGC, the ward consisting of four beds, two of which were occupied.

Daniel could see both Jack and Sam lying in the beds, both of them asleep or unconscious and hooked up to a scary number of machines.

Jordan waved the doctor forward. "Sir, this is General Hammond, Doctor Jackson and Teal'c. They're from Cheyenne Mountain."

"Sir."

"Major. What are their conditions?" Hammond asked.

"They're both stable," he said. "Colonel O'Neill has internal injuries and a broken tibia. I was able to stabilize his lungs with a chest tube, but he'll need another surgery to finish repairing the damage."

"And Captain Carter?" Teal'c asked.

"The captain's condition is a little bit more problematic," he said.

"Problematic?" Daniel asked.

"Doctor, technically, she was dead when we found her," he said. "Half frozen and no pulse. Fortunately, we have a saying down here; you're not dead until you're warm and dead. We warmed her up and managed to get her heart started again."

"And what does that mean?" Hammond asked.

"It means we don't know if there's been any neurological damage. And aren't likely to know until she wakes up," he said. "They're both also suffering from frostbite, in Captain Carter's case, it's serious." He led them towards Sam's bed. She was swathed in blankets and Daniel could see angry looking patches on her face, what he guessed to be signs of frostbite on her skin.

Her fingers and hands were wrapped in white gauze and various tubes snaked in and out from under the covers. "She broke her ankle; I'm guessing when she fell down the side of the mountain. The fracture compromised her blood flow. The frostbite on her left foot is rather severe."

"How severe?" Hammond asked.

The doctor shook his head. "You probably won't know for several days to weeks. It takes time to find out if the tissue will regenerate or if it will turn gangrenous."

"Gangrene?" Daniel asked, horrified by the word. "You mean she could lose her foot?"

"It's too early to say," Major Marshall reassured him.

"How long until they can go home?" General Hammond asked.

"At least a couple of days, sir," the doctor said. "I'll need to remove the chest tube and make sure that Colonel O'Neill can travel and withstand cabin pressurization first."

"Very well," the general said. "I'll put you in contact with the base physician so you can brief her." He turned to look at Captain Jordan. "Captain, I'd like to go out to the site. Teal'c, Doctor Jackson, you can come with or remain here," he offered.

Daniel looked to Teal'c. "I'd like to stay here, General," he said.

"Then I shall journey with you, General Hammond," Teal'c said.

The three of them made their way to the door. "I'm going to be in my office, doing some paperwork," Doctor Marshal said. "You can make yourself at home. The base is a little cramped, but if you want to stay here and accompany them back, I'll see if I can round you up some quarters," he offered.

"I'd appreciate that," Daniel said. Marshal nodded and retreated into his office. Left alone with his two unconscious teammates, Daniel sighed. He snagged a chair from the corner and dragged it between the two occupied beds. "So, he said, to fill the awkward silence. You guys are not going to believe what we've done the past few days."

XXXXXXXXXX

Sara sat beside the bed, her eyes restlessly traveling from the magazine in her lap to the still figure on the bed. He still looked bad, bruises coloring his pale skin. He was wearing one of the normal hospital gowns, which she knew he absolutely hated. Monitoring leads and tubes snaked in and out from under the gown and covers and his right leg was propped up on a pillow, encased in a protective fiberglass cast.

He looked horrible, but she knew that, all things considered, his condition could certainly be worse. His broken ribs were mending, as was the incision where the doctors had operated to repair the internal damage. His leg was set and would just take time to mend, just as she knew that the frostbite would heal.

He looked better than he did a couple of days before when he and Captain Carter had been flown home from the Antarctic, both of them flat on their backs and swaddled in blankets.

Both of them had been admitted to the Academy Hospital, which Sara was grateful for. While she had been granted the privilege of knowing what went on behind the closed doors of Cheyenne Mountain, she didn't have much faith in being allowed to visit her husband on a regular basis hundreds of feet underground and behind endless yards of razor wire.

He was banged up, but he was alive. And that was all that mattered. Sara heard him stir and she looked up, the magazine forgotten. "Jack?"

"Hey," he said his voice low and rough. "You haven't been here all day, have you?"

She shook her head. "No. I went home and made the kids' lunch. Mike's with them right now."

"Bet he loves that."

"It's not so bad. I think he's taking them bowling," she said.

"Great," he groaned good naturedly. "Why couldn't Mike like baseball?"

"Probably because you do," she shot back. "Did the doctors say when you could go home?" she asked.

"Probably a couple of days. Have you heard anything about Carter?" he asked. "Fraiser won't tell me anything."

"She's next door, Jack. She hasn't woken up yet," she said, knowing that he'd be concerned about his teammate. The woman was in a coma, what the doctors said was a common side effect of the hypothermia.

They were optimistic that she'd wake up, and it was an optimism that Sara hoped to relay to her husband. It was hard enough when he lost a friend, but she knew it'd be even harder after the two of them spent the better part of a week trapped alone together.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows. She reached out and grabbed his hand. "Jack, you can't help what happened. And don't you start on that whole responsibility thing. I know you, I know you did all that you could."

"It wasn't enough," he said softly.

Sara sighed, knowing that there wasn't much she could say to her husband. He would have to forgive himself and nothing she could say or do would help him. "Jack, I was wondering, is there anything we can do for Pete?" she asked, seeking to distract him.

"What about him?"

"He's been asking questions," she said slowly.

"What kind of questions?"

"Like how two people got frostbite when we're having such a mild winter. Like where the two of you were for a week," she said.

He shook his head. "It's classified."

"I know. And, thanks to us adopting Cassie, I know what really happened, but he doesn't have that luxury."

"There's nothing I can do—"

"Jack, imagine what it's going to be like for her when she wakes up and goes home. She can't even tell the person she lives with what really happened."

"I couldn't tell you about what I did until just recently," he shot back.

"Yes, and I resented the hell out of it," she retorted.

He sighed. "Hon, I don't know what I can do."

"If I can be told—"

"That was because of Cassandra."

"I think Pete deserves to know," she stated.

"Sara—"

"Maybe not everything, but I think he deserves to know," she insisted. "Jack, how many times did you tell me things you weren't supposed to?" she asked. "Jack, please."

"Ok," he gave in. "I'll talk to Hammond. But no promises," he warned.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam flipped through the channels on the TV, fumbling a bit with the remote. She cursed the bandages on her hands, then, realizing the alternative, decided that they weren't all that bad.

Sore fingers were better than no fingers.

"You know, for as much as they charge, there's really no excuse for the sucky cable."

Startled, she dropped the remote as Colonel O'Neill limped into the room. "Sir."

"The least they could do is have HBO." He maneuvered on his crutches over towards her bed and claimed the chair there. "Although, Sara just loves this Doctor Phil dude."

"He's aah, interesting," she said, suddenly feeling ill at ease. It was the first time she'd seen him since the cave although she'd heard from Daniel that he was doing good and that he'd been released a couple of days ago.

She knew that she wasn't going to be quite as lucky. The frostbite on her hands and face was minor and would heal in time. Just like the other bruises and scrapes from her tumble down the side of the mountain. It was her leg that was concerning her. The doctors said they wouldn't know for weeks if the tissue would heal or not.

"That's one way to put it," he said. "Are you bored to tears yet?"

She chuckled. "What was your first clue?"

"The fact that Daniel got caught trying to smuggle your laptop out of the mountain."

"What?"

"Kidding," he said. "I just know that I was bored senseless after two days and even though you've slept through most of the last two weeks, I figured you felt the same way." He looked around the room, his eyes settling on a vase of flowers. "I see Daniel's been busy."

"He signed your name to it too, sir," she said.

"He did?" She nodded. "Sweet. So, how are you feeling?" he asked, his flippant demeanor turning serious.

"I'm ok," she said. He nodded. "Doctor Fraiser said I should be able to go home in a few days."

"Good, good. And Pete?"

"He's in Denver right now. Some case. He'll be home tomorrow I think," she said. "About Pete, sir I don't understand—" she started, asking the one question she'd been desperate to ask since she'd woken up several days earlier, surprised not only to discover that she was alive, but that also that she was safe and sound in the Academy hospital and that, sometime during her prolonged period of unconsciousness, Pete had gotten clearance to know about the SGC and what they did there.

"The SGC is 'need to know', and we figured that Pete needed to know," he dismissed.

"We?"

He sighed. "Sara brought it up, I talked to Hammond and he agreed," he said.

"Sara brought it up?"

"Who better to know how Pete feels than a person who's put up with top secret for the better part of fifteen years," he said. "Carter, don't worry about it. Sara was right. And anyway, if Cassie's gonna be visiting now and then, it'll be easier in the long run if he does know."

Sam shook her head. "Sir, I—"

"We're having a party next weekend," he said.

"A party?"

"Yep, it'll be Cassie's thirteenth birthday. You and Pete are invited."

"How did you figure out when her birthday was?" she asked.

"I didn't. Daniel did. Anyway, we're going to do the whole barbeque thing. Doc says you should be out of here by then, so we'd like you to join us. We can even have crutch races." He smiled and made a face, patting his aluminum crutches.

"I don't know, sir. I'm not even sure they'll let me go home by then," she said.

He nodded, levering himself to his feet. "Well, the invitation is open," he said. "And, if you come, we can figure out what we're going to come up with to keep Daniel and Teal'c busy for the next few weeks."

"We?" she asked, not quite understanding where the conversation was going.

"With half of the team laid up for the next six to eight weeks, those two are at loose ends," he explained. "I'm thinking about loaning them out to SG-3…but that might be more than the Marines can handle." The door opened and the nurse came in, carrying Sam's lunch tray. Sensing that she was interrupting, she simply set the tray down and left the room.

"Colonel?" Sam asked, watching as he limped to the bed and lifted the cover, making a face at the dry looking sandwich and limp pickle.

"You're part of SG-1 Carter," he said, replacing the cover. "We're not going back out until you can come with us," he said seriously. "And if this is all they're feeding you, the sooner we get you out of here the better." He looked at her. "You like pizza?"

"Yeah," she answered slowly, trying to follow the conversation. His behavior puzzled her, the sudden change from cautiously suspicious to overtly friendly catching her off guard.

"Pepperoni?" she nodded. "Ok. I can't promise the beer, but I can deliver pizza. Eighteen hundred," he said as he moved towards the door. "Any requests?"

"Diet coke?" she asked.

"Carter?"

"I am so sick of orange juice," she complained.

"Diet coke it is," he said. "I'll see you in a few hours, Captain."

XXXXXXXXXX

Pete hurried around the wheelchair, opening the car door and trying to get out of the way. "Oh, maybe I need to move the seat back," he said, leaning forward.

"Pete, it's ok," Sam said, holding out her hand to restrain him. She took her crutches from him and moved to stand up, barely waiting for the nurse to put the brakes on the wheelchair. As he watched, she maneuvered herself into the car seat, holding out the crutches.

He took them, sliding them into the back seat along with the small bag of her belongings. One of the candy stripers helped him load the flowers and he thanked her, quickly making his way over to the driver's seat. "Buckle up," he said, turning the key in the ignition. "I'd hate to have to cite you for not using your seatbelt."

"And I'd hate to have to whack you with my crutches," she retorted, leaning her head against the headrest of the seat.

He chuckled and put the car in gear, pulling away from the curb. He glanced over at her, noting that she was keeping her eyes closed; looking like the short trip from her room to the car had totally drained her.

In one way, he imagined that it had. He knew that Sam always did her best to put up a good front and, during the past two weeks, had caught her more than once, trying not to look as tired or as in pain as he knew she was.

Her foot was healing, slowly and he knew it'd be a few more weeks before they knew how much of an effect the frostbite would have. And add to that the complication of the fracture; she was going to be laid up for at least a few months. He was worried. She was worried. And he knew that her friends were worried as well.

"Colonel O'Neill called me this morning."

"Mmhm."

"He wanted to remind us about Cassie's party."

She opened her eyes. "Pete, I'm tired," she said, giving him the response he'd expected.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Ok," he said as she closed her eyes, settling back down to doze.

Pete continued to drive, hoping that she kept her eyes closed. It would be infinitely easier that way.

Finally arriving at their destination, he pulled to the curb. "Sam?"

"I can't wait to finally sleep in my own…Pete." She opened her eyes, turning to glare at him once she'd looked out the window and determined that they weren't home. "Where the hell are we?"

"He made me do it," Pete said, feeling the need to explain his actions. He pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the door.

"Pete. I said I wanted to go home," she said, her voice rising to a whine.

"We will," he reassured her. He got out and shut his door, looking up to see Doctor Jackson and Teal'c walking around the house. They waved and broke into a jog.

"We started to think you weren't coming," Doctor Jackson said.

"Paperwork and prescriptions," Pete said. "She's not happy," he warned.

"We're just gonna have to change that," Jackson said, pulling open the car door. "Sam, I'm glad you came."

"I didn't have a choice," she said, glaring at Pete.

"Do you not wish to spend time with us, Captain Carter?" Teal'c asked his voice deeply calm.

"Teal'c, it's not that—" she started.

"SAM!" Pete turned, grinning when he saw Cassie running out of the house, her long hair flying. She pushed past Jackson and Teal'c and nearly threw herself into the car. Much to his relief, Sam hugged the girl. "You came!"

"Yeah, I did," Sam said as Cassie stepped back. She looked up at them, this time smiling instead of glaring. "You knew," she accused.

Pete shrugged innocently. "Me?"

"Lunch is almost ready," Daniel said. "We're just waiting on you."

Pete pulled Sam's crutches from the back of the car and handed them to her. "Just long enough to eat," he said softly. "Are you mad?"

"Yes."

"Am I in trouble?"

"What do you think?" she teased.

"Well then, I'm not going to give you this," he said. Pulling a sack out of the back seat.

"What is it?" She frowned at him.

"Your gift to Cassie," he said, shrugging negligently.

"Ok, you're out of the dog house," she said, starting to make her way up the walk.

Doctor Jackson grabbed Cassie's hand and led the girl as Teal'c followed them, intently studying the crutches.

They made their way into the house and Pete let Daniel show Sam to a chair. "Carter, glad you made it," Colonel O'Neill said, limping out of the kitchen.

"Sir," she said, staring curiously as another man followed Sara in, carrying a large platter of burgers.

"Carter, Colonel Frank Cromwell," O'Neill introduced. "We served together years ago."

"Colonel." She tried to get up.

"Ah, sit down," Cromwell said. "Jack keeps forgetting that rank gets left at the door."

"Diet soda, right?" Sara asked, pressing a can into Sam's hand.

"Aah, yeah, thanks." Sam took it, looking more than a little lost.

"Sam." Cassie came running out of her bedroom, her arms burdened with something, Charlie hot at her heels. "Look at what Daniel got me for my birthday." She fumbled, holding out a large pad and a small tray of water color paints. "He said that I can be an artist."

"You sure can," Sam said, smiling.

"He said you can teach me how to use it."

"Oh, I don't know, Cassie. I'm not very good at it," Sam said.

"So, Carter, now that you're here, maybe you can answer a question for me," Cromwell said, handing her a plate loaded with a hamburger and all the fixings.

"I can try, sir," she answered.

"Deep space radar telemetry. That's what you do in the mountain."

"Yes, sir," Sam confirmed, sticking to the cover story.

"Ok, then can you tell me how this knuckle head, who got his first telescope so that he could check out the girls' dorm without getting caught, manages to stare at a computer screen all day and not go totally whacko?" he asked, grinning at O'Neill's glare.

"Frank," he growled.

"Actually Colonel, I think Colonel O'Neill just…pretends it's a game boy," Sam said, struggling to keep a straight face.

Sara choked and Doctor Jackson openly laughed while Teal'c merely raised an eyebrow.

"Game boy?" Cromwell asked. "And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"When we caught him using a grease pencil to write his name on the screen and claim high score," she said, shooting Pete a look as he returned from the kitchen, his hands burdened with a plate of food and a cold bottle of beer.

Cromwell laughed. "Yeah, Jack, it's official. You still have the oddest friends."

"Look in a mirror, Frankie. Look in a mirror," O'Neill said.

Pete sat down beside Sam, letting the conversation flow around him. It was good to see Sam settling in and becoming one of the crowd again. As she ate, he watched, studying the body language of the people in the room. There were a lot of secrets in this room, a lot of people playing roles and holding their cards close to their chests.

The people in this room were a puzzle.

And there was nothing Pete Shanahan liked more than a puzzle.

Fin


	3. Chapter 3

Evolution: A Lamb in Wolf's Clothing

By

Denise

A death glider screamed overhead and Daniel ducked, instinctively covering his head. As soon as it was gone, he looked up, waving people forward. "Okay, come on, come on. Don't panic, we'll have you out of here in a minute," he urged, desperately hoping that he was telling them the truth.

This was incredible, he'd never seen anything like it, and he hoped he never would again. He still didn't understand what was happening. Nasyia was a peaceful planet. The people were friendly but simple, definitely not advanced enough for the goa'uld to care about. This attack didn't make any sense.

Then again, violence rarely made sense.

Jack ran towards him, struggling to carry a young boy in his arms. Teal'c appeared at Daniel's side and Jack handed the boy over. "I gotta go back for Carter," he said, turning on his heel and heading back into the fray. Daniel set the boy down and gave him a push, sending him through the event horizon. "Teal'c?"

"I shall retrieve O'Neill and Captain Carter," Teal'c said. "You will remain here."

Teal'c ran off and Daniel stood there for a second, not seeing the blast that knocked him off his feet. Seeing new victims, he scrambled to his feet, stumbling as he hurried over to the injured man. "Medic!" he yelled. Getting no response and seeing the Jaffa advancing, he grabbed the fallen man, dragging him towards the Stargate.

He fought his way up the stairs and across the event horizon, tripping and falling out the other side. Almost immediately, two medics were at his side, pulling both of them out of the way of the gate.

"I want a full medical quarantine until these people can be examined," Hammond ordered, yelling out his commands to be heard over the chaos of the retreat. "Colonel O'Neill and the rest?"

"Right behind me, and a dozen Jaffa right behind them," Daniel reported, staring at the flickering blue surface. As if in answer to his prayers, Jack, Sam and Teal'c stumbled through, chased by a cloud of gas and dust. Sam was limping heavily and it was obvious that the two men were supporting her.

"Close the iris!" Teal'c yelled. The metal blades snapped shut and silence rushed in.

"Are you ok?" Hammond asked the trio.

"Captain Carter injured her leg," Teal'c reported, helping her down the ramp.

"I just tripped," she said, making a face at the gurney.

"Jack, are you ok?" Daniel asked, frowning at the smear of blood on his shirt.

He shook his head. "I just fell over the guy Carter was trying to help," he dismissed. "Blood's not mine."

"I want all of you down to the infirmary," Hammond ordered. "You too Doctor Jackson. We'll debrief when you're clear."

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam sat on the gurney, her left leg propped out in front of her. Janet was carefully taking off her boot and sock. "I don't know what happened," she said.

Janet rolled up her pants leg and examined her. "I don't see any signs of bruising," she said, craning her neck and manipulating Sam's leg. "Has it been giving you any trouble lately?"

Sam shook her head. "It just hurts."

"What do you mean?"

"It…hurts," Sam said. Janet stared at her, silently urging her to elaborate. "Like it aches…a lot. On the planet it just…gave out."

"Why didn't you say anything earlier?" Janet asked.

"I thought all broken bones hurt," Sam said, wincing at how lame the excuse sounded.

Janet smiled. "They do. But it shouldn't hurt this bad, not after four months." She set Sam's leg down. "I want to do an MRI of your leg."

"Do you think something's wrong?" Sam asked. "I thought the frostbite was all healed."

"It is. Even though your leg will always be sensitive to heat or cold. I just want to make sure nothing else is going on."

"What do you think it is?" Sam asked, concerned.

"If I knew that, I wouldn't need the MRI," Janet said, smiling reassuringly. "I'll call over to the Academy Hospital and get you scheduled for this afternoon."

"I have a briefing—"

"And then I'll make your excuses to the general," she continued. "Why don't you go get cleaned up," she suggested looking over her shoulder at the crowded room. "Most of the evacuees are going to be sent to the Academy Hospital and I'm going to follow them. If you can make it back in about half an hour, I'll give you a ride."

"Ok." Sam slid off the gurney, gingerly putting weight on her leg. The stabbing pain that had assailed her on the planet was gone, replaced by the normal dull ache.

She limped out of the infirmary, cursing herself for not speaking up earlier. She hadn't been exaggerating when she said her leg had been hurting for months. But she'd also attributed that pain to the combination of her broken ankle and the healing tissue damage caused by the frost bite. And there had also been several weeks of physical therapy, which often left her with muscle spasms and cramps that only Pete's skilled hands seemed to alleviate.

She'd finally been cleared to return to active duty just a month ago, barely in time to travel with her team on their renegade mission to stop Apophis' attack on Earth. She was still catching hell from Pete on that one. He may not be military, but he sure as hell had his opinions on following orders. Of course, she also thought shuttle envy had a little to do with it.

Finding the locker room empty, she entered, flipping the sign over to female and setting the deadlock on the door. Unlocking her locker, she pulled out a clean set of clothes and her toiletries and made her way into the shower area. It took her twenty minutes to shower and get dressed and she limped back out into the hall, her hair still damp.

She should be in time to catch Janet before she drove to the hospital. If she was lucky, Sam figured she'd be home in time for dinner.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Charlie, we're going to be late," Sara said, glancing back at her son and Cassie as they trailed behind her.

He and Cassie were dawdling behind, chatting with each other. Sara sighed and stopped, waiting for the pair to catch up. She swore, if you didn't know that they weren't blood siblings, you wouldn't know. They'd really grown close in the past six months and, despite her earlier misgivings, the girl had settled into the family.

Things weren't perfect, not by a long stretch. Cassie often had bad nightmares, sometimes waking the whole house. Last week, both of the kids were grounded for fighting. But, all things considered, it could have been worse.

Sara just hoped that they'd be able to get Cassie up to speed on her reading so that she could go to a normal school next year. Right now, she was being tutored by a teacher from the academy. This was why Cassie was accompanying them to Charlie's doctor's appointment.

Sara had no doubt that the girl would catch up on the academics, but the cultural stuff was just going to take time.

"Coming," Charlie said, catching up with her. "What is Cassie going to do while I'm with Doctor Rogers?"

"She's just going to have to wait," Sara said, frustration creeping into her voice. Going from a single child to near twin household hadn't exactly been easy, although they were managing.

"I brought my book," Cassie said, holding up the small bag.

"Yes, you did," Sara said. "And, as soon as Charlie's done, we're going to get some lunch," she promised, looking at her watch. Damnit, Jack, where are you, she asked herself. He'd promised her that he'd be here.

Because of his injuries, Charlie had quarterly appointments with his neurologist, appointments that Jack never missed.

"Where's dad?" Charlie asked.

"I'm sure he'll be here," Sara said. "He probably got caught up at work."

She led the children into the hospital, making her way to Doctor Roger's office. If Jack didn't show up she'd…..oh he'd be spending more time on the couch that was for sure.

"Mrs. O'Neill."

"Sam!"

Sara looked, surprised to see Captain Carter standing beside the elevators. "Captain, hi." The woman knelt down, allowing Cassie to give her a hug.

"Cass, are you ok?" Carter asked, frowning.

"She's fine. I have to go see the doctor," Charlie said.

"You do?" Carter asked.

"Just a normal appointment," Sara reassured. "Is everything ok with you?"

Carter smiled. "Yeah, I'm just having a test done," she said. "They tried to do it last night but the MRI was acting up."

Sara nodded. "I don't suppose you've seen Jack lately?"

Carter frowned. "Umm, not since last night, sorry. Is he supposed to be here?"

"Yeah," Sara said. "Maybe he's upstairs." Sara pushed the button to summon the elevator. The car arrived and the four of them got in.

"I brought my book to read while I wait," Cassie said.

"Good for you," Carter cheered her on.

The elevator opened and Sara stepped towards the door. "Here we are," she said.

"Can I wait with Sam?" Cassie asked.

"What?"

"I want to wait with Sam," she said, her voice edging towards a whine.

Carter looked a bit uncomfortable as she met Sara's gaze. "Cassie, I'm sure Mrs. O'Neill would rather you stay with her," she said.

"But—"

"And you're just going to be sitting in a waiting room while the run their test," she said.

Sara looked at Cassie, noticing the fallen expression. "You know what? One waiting room isn't much different than another," Sara said. "Cassandra, if you want to go wait with Captain Carter, that's fine," she agreed.

"Are you sure, ma'am?" Carter asked.

Sara nodded. "Our appointment should take about an hour. We can meet you in the cafeteria. You can even join us for lunch," she invited impulsively.

"Oh, no I couldn't—"

"Sure you can," Sara said, feeling the need to reach out to the woman. There was a part of her that felt jealous of the captain. After all, she got to share a part of Jack's life that Sara would never have access to. They had experiences and adventures together, and then Sara got to discuss which wall paper she wanted to use and whether or not to get the yard landscaped.

But she also felt the need to get to know the woman because she knew that, for all their adventures, Captain Carter also had the unenviable task of watching Jack's back. According to Jack, if it hadn't have been for the woman's efforts down in the Antarctic, the SGC never would have found them. She owed the captain her husband's life, and a lunch or two seemed to be the least she could do.

"Meet you down there in about an hour?" Sara asked.

Carter nodded. "Ok. Thank you," she said as Sara and Charlie stepped off the elevator.

An hour and a half later, Sara led Charlie into the cafeteria, scanning the room for the young captain. She saw them sitting in the corner, half full glasses of soft drinks in front of them. Sara waved and led Charlie over to them. "Sorry we're late," she apologized.

"That's ok," Carter said her mood subdued.

"I finished my book," Cassie said, holding the book up triumphantly. She was learning fast, already up to a third or fourth grade reading level.

"That's great," Sara enthused.

"Mom, can I get a drink?" Charlie asked.

"Charlie, we're going to be eating lunch in a little bit—"

"But Cassie has one."

"Cassie's been waiting longer."

"Only because she went with Sam," he bickered.

Sara took a deep breath, ready to lose her temper with her son. He knew the rules. "You'll ruin your appetite," she said evenly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Carter apologized.

"That's ok," Sara dismissed. "Happens all the time. And if I want to be honest, Jack is the worst offender." She lowered her voice. "He is a junk food junkie. He'll snack all day then eat a full meal. I swear if it wasn't for his metabolism, he'd weigh a ton."

The woman smiled slightly, the expression confined only to her lips. Impulsively, Sara pulled a couple of bills out of her wallet and handed them to Cassie. "Cassandra, why don't you go show Charlie where you got your drink," she said, trying to secure privacy with Carter.

"Really?"

"Yeah, go on." Sara waited until they were out of ear shot and looked to Carter. "Are you ok?" she asked, reaching out to touch the woman's arm.

"What?" She looked up, like she was startled.

Sara shrugged. "You look like whatever that test was, it wasn't good."

"It's aah—"

"Hey, there you are." Colonel O'Neill leaned over his wife's shoulder and pecked her on the cheek. "I'm sorry I'm late," he apologized. As Sara watched, Carter looked down, clearly changing her mind on confiding in her. "Hammond greeted me at the door this morning with a stack of mission reports that just HAD to be done."

"That's ok," Sara said slowly, frowning at her husband's tone of voice. He didn't sound remorseful, but almost boisterous, like he was trying too hard to be cheerful. "Doctor Rogers didn't have anything new to say."

"He didn't?"

"No. Just that Charlie was progressing like he'd expected and that he was responding well to the physical therapy," Sara reported. Their son went to therapy twice a week now, which was a far cry from his daily sessions in the weeks after his accident. Sara knew that he'd probably always have a limp and some weakness in his left side, but the hope was that Charlie could be as normal as possible.

"I aah, need to get back to work," Carter said, getting up from the table.

"You were going to join us for lunch," Sara reminded.

Carter shook her head. "Thank you, but I have a funny feeling some of those reports General Hammond wants are mine. Sir, Mrs. O'Neill."

She hurried away and Sara turned, frowning as the woman nearly fled the cafeteria. "So, where are we going for lunch?" Jack asked, quickly sliding into the woman's abandoned seat.

"Did that seem strange to you?" Sara asked,

"What?"

"Captain Carter. How she just zoomed out of here. It was strange."

Jack shook his head. "She was born strange," he dismissed.

"Jack," Sara protested as the kids joined them.

"Dad. You came." Charlie slid into the chair next to him. Cassie was behind him. She walked towards Jack then slowed, the smile fading from her face.

"Cassie?" The girl slowly edged towards her, sliding to stand at Sara's back. Sara turned in the chair and stretched out her arms, wrapping them around Cassie's waist. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" Cassie didn't answer but edged further behind Sara, like she was trying to hide. "Cassie?" Sara turned to Jack. "What's wrong with her?"

Jack shrugged, getting to his feet. "I don't know. So, Charlie, where do you want to go for lunch?"

Sara stared, watching as Jack led Charlie out of the cafeteria. She looked back to Cassie, frowning at the fear and puzzlement on the girl's face. "Hon, are you ok?" Cassie stared at her and slowly nodded. "Do you want to go get something to eat?" She shook her head. "Ok. How about we let the boys go out and we'll go get a sandwich on our own," she suggested. "How does that sound?"

"Ok," Cassie finally said her voice small and hesitant.

"Then let's go," Sara said, trying to sound enthusiastic. She reached out and took Cassie's hand. Together they left the cafeteria, catching sight of Jack and Charlie waiting down the hall. "We just need to go ditch the boys before we go have some fun."

XXXXXXXXXX

George Hammond leaned back in his chair, watching as three members of SG-1 briefed him on their mission to Nasyia. Normally when a team returned under fire, George preferred to brief as soon as possible, however Captain Carter's medical issue delayed things. Then Colonel O'Neill had a family issue. George's first inclination had been to delay the briefing even longer, however with a couple hundred refugees to deal with; he really needed to have a handle on the situation.

"There hadn't been any Goa'uld interference on this planet for over three centuries. The Nasyians are... are... were a peaceful people. They were eager to form an alliance and aid us in setting up a research outpost," Jackson reported. "There was no warning this attack was coming. We hadn't even spotted the mother ship by the time the Gliders assaulted the village."

"It's not normal for the Goa'ulds to suddenly just show up and wipe out peaceful people for no apparent reason, is it?" George asked.

Jackson nodded. "In the past there was usually some reason, most often they seem to attack civilizations that are advancing to a point where their technology could be a threat, but that

wasn't the case here."

"Maybe they found out we were there," Carter suggested.

"Well how could they know?" Jackson asked. "Or more importantly, why did this particular Goa'uld care?"

"It is possible that they have a renewed interest in response to our recent interaction with Apophis," Teal'c said.

Jackson shrugged. "Well, the truth is we still understand very little about their society."

"I have seen the Goa'uld wipe out entire civilizations - no reason, simply because it gave them pleasure," Teal'c said.

"So what, Nasyia was just next on the list? Part of me wishes it was that simple, but I don't want to underestimate them," Carter said.

"We may never know why they attacked," Hammond said. "What's the status of the Nasyian survivors?"

"Well, we managed to rescue 237 people. The critically burned and some of the overflow our infirmary couldn't handle were transferred to the Air Force Academy hospital. The rest are awaiting relocation," Jackson said.

He leaned forward. "Sir, I think it's important to try and find the reason why Nasyia became a Goa'uld target."

"Agreed! But relocation is the first priority. I'm assigning the three new SG teams 10 through 12 to coordinate with you. I want these people relocated as soon as possible. Dismissed." He got to his feet and the others did the same.

"Sir?" Carter said. George turned to face her. "Can I have a moment?"

Hammond nodded and waved her towards his office. He sat down and motioned for them to take a seat. "What can I do for you, Captain?"

"Sir, I don't think I'm going to be much help with the relocation."

"Why is that?"

"I know Doctor Fraiser will be down to tell you, but she's taking me off active duty for a time," she said slowly.

"Captain? What's wrong?" George asked, immediately concerned.

"She found out what happened on the planet. Apparently, the fracture didn't heal quite right and the bone is infected. At least that's what she thinks it is. They're going to do a biopsy tomorrow to make sure. It's going to take a bit to get it taken care of," she said, her voice calm. But George could see beyond the façade and read the fear in her eyes. He wasn't a medical doctor, but he did know a thing or two about injuries. And enough to know that infections in the bone are one of the worst kinds to have. "I can still work here, sir. But given what happened on the planet, Doctor Fraiser feels that it'd be best for me to be off active duty and out of the off world rotation."

"That seems reasonable," George agreed. "Have you told Colonel O'Neill yet?"

"No, sir. I haven't had a chance to talk to him yet."

George nodded. "Ok. Inform Colonel O'Neill and I'll assign a replacement when SG-1 scouts for new homes for the Nasyians."

"Thank you, sir." She got to her feet and turned to leave the room.

"Captain?"

"Sir?" She turned back.

"Take care," he said sincerely.

"I will, sir." She smiled and left the room. George sighed, not looking forward to finding a replacement for the woman. Then again, that was all part of command. He just hoped the replacement he found was to be temporary, not permanent.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam walked into her lab, not bothering to hide her limp once she was out of the hallway. She sat down in her chair and pulled her left leg up, resting her ankle on her knee. She rubbed her calf, knowing that it wouldn't alleviate the bone deep ache, but feeling the need to do something.

Doctor's Frasier's words echoed in her memories as she sat there. Osetomyletis. Biopsy. Antibiotic therapy. Amputation.

She was scared. More scared than she'd ever been on any mission. More scared than she'd been at any time during her relationship with Jonas.

Lose her leg. It was such a bland term. Lose it. Yeah, like she was just going to leave it lying somewhere. Or maybe it'd be like a sock in the dryer, it'd just vanish. She'd just wake up in the morning and it'd be gone. Maybe she could run a lost and found ad.

The absurdity of her thoughts hit her and she choked slightly, bringing her hand up to her mouth. Lose her leg. She couldn't lose her leg. They'd discharge her. That much was certain. There wasn't much room in the military for cripples.

The phone rang and she gasped, fumbling for the receiver. "Carter," she said, hoping that her voice sounded normal.

"Captain Carter, this is Sara O'Neill."

"Mrs. O'Neill, is something wrong?"

"It's Cassie—"

"Is she ok?"

"Yeah, no, actually. Captain, could you come over here please?" she asked.

"Ma'am?"

"Cassie's locked herself in her room and she won't come out," Mrs. O'Neill said.

"Ma'am, I haven't seen Colonel O'Neill all day and—"

"I don't want Jack to come home," she interrupted. "Cassie is asking for you, and only you," she said. Sam could hear the panic and hopelessness in the woman's voice. "Captain, I know I'm asking a lot, but I don't know what else to do. She's locked herself in her room, she's in a total panic, and she won't come out and says the only person she trusts is you."

"I'll be right here," Sam said, making her decision in an instant. She hung up the phone and pulled open her desk drawer, retrieving her purse. Not even bothering to change, she hurried out of the mountain.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sara paced back and forth, hurrying to the front window every time she heard a car drive by. "It takes dad at least half an hour to get home," Charlie said from his place on the sofa. "It'll probably take Sam longer."

Sara shot him a look and glanced at the stairs, hoping she could see Cassie standing there. She had no idea what had gotten into the girl. She'd been fine earlier in the day after they'd left the hospital. After eating Sara had returned to the house to find Jack and Charlie already waiting, the two of them settling for a quick hamburger instead of the restaurant meal Sara and Cassie had eaten.

Noting that she needed groceries, Jack had volunteered to keep the kids at home for an hour so Sara could go shopping without them tagging along. She'd come home and Jack had left. It'd taken her a couple of hours to realize that Cassie was in her room and several minutes after that to discover that the girl was barricaded in.

A car door slammed and Sara hurried to the window, sighing when she recognized the woman limping up her front path. "She's here," she said needlessly to Charlie as she walked past him and made a bee line to the door. She pulled it open just as Carter stepped onto the porch. "I am so glad you're here," she said.

"What's wrong with her?" Carter asked.

"She's locked in the room and won't come out," Charlie said.

"It took me an hour just to get her to talk to me. I was on the verge of calling the police, and then she said she'd only come out for you," Sara said.

"Why me?" Carter asked.

"She likes you," Charlie said, not realizing how those words affected Sara. Yes, Cassie did like the captain. Even Jack knew that they had a special bond that he or Sara would never be able to break. That was one reason Sara had been rather unsure about the woman, until she realized that Carter was going out of her way to not interfere and actually seemed to be trying to help Sara and Jack foster a strong relationship with the girl, despite the fact that Sara now knew the captain had wanted to keep Cassie for herself.

"She's up in her room," Sara said. Carter nodded and started up the stairs. "Stay down here," Sara ordered her son.

"Mom—"

"Charlie," she warned.

"Ok," he moaned, plopping back down on the sofa. Sara crept up the stairs, trying to get close enough to hear while keeping her distance, not wanting to spook the girl.

"Cassie, it's me," she heard Carter say. "Can I come in?" Sara moved just a few feet away, close enough to hear but still out of sight. Carter glanced over at her and shrugged. "Cassie? Can I come in?" she repeated.

The lock on the door clicked and Sara sighed in relief as the white painted door slowly opened. Carter pushed it the rest of the way and slowly slipped into the room. "Hey. Your mom says you're a little upset about something." Cassie was sitting on the floor, her back pushed into a corner of the room. Sara stepped into view and the girl's head shot up, but she didn't respond, her gaze going quickly back to Captain Carter. "What happened?"

"He's going to kill me," Cassie said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Who? Who's going to kill you?" Carter asked, frowning furiously.

Cassie glanced at Sara, her face full of fear. "Dad," she whispered.

"Oh, no Cassie. Your dad won't do that," Carter said.

"Yes he will," she insisted.

Carter glanced over her shoulder then turned her attention back to Cassie. "I'm sure, even if he said something, he didn't mean it. Sometimes grown ups say things that they don't mean."

"He meant it," she said sincerely.

"Cassie, your dad loves you. He'd never do anything to hurt you," Carter insisted.

"He would now."

"Why?"

"He's a goa'uld."

"What?" Sara demanded.

"Cassie, what are you talking about?" Carter asked.

"You don't believe me."

"I do," Carter insisted. "Just tell me how you know that your dad is a goa'uld," she requested.

"I could feel something strange at the hospital any time that I got close to him. And then, when you were at the store, I saw him."

"You saw what?" Sara asked.

"He knew that I could feel something and he came over to me and he picked me up and his voice got all funny and his eyes glowed and he told me if I ever told anyone he'd kill me," she said, the words spilling out in a rush. As she talked, tears welled up in her eyes and her voice started to quiver.

"Oh sweetie, it's gonna be ok," Carter said, wrapping her arms around the girl.

"Captain?" Sara asked, trying to reconcile the fact that her daughter had just accused her husband of being an alien.

"I don't know," she said, her hand soothing the girl's back as Cassie clung to her. "But I've got to call General Hammond."

"This could all be…" Sara broke off, not wanting to call Cassie a liar to her face. "A misunderstanding," she edited.

"It could be, but we can't take the risk," Carter said. "If she's right, he has to be contained."

XXXXXXXXXX

Jolinar of Malkshur walked down the odd gray corridor, striving to keep a look of confidence and calm upon her host's face. Close. She was so close. She could feel the chaappai just a few levels away, the naqahdah setting her blood to humming. It took all of her control not to push her way into that control room and leave this accursed planet.

Patience, she told herself, patience. She knew from plumbing her host's memories that he was due to go on a mission in the near future. That was when she would leave. It would be very simple. All she needed to do was to get past earth's initial defenses and onto another planet.

Most planets, she knew, did not guard their chaappai as the Tau'ri did. There would be no need to 'hack' into a computer or risk capture or injury. She and her host would be able to leave, unscathed and unnoticed, for a short time, at least. The other members of his team would surely note his abandonment of them. However, it did not matter if they noticed, just that they did nothing to prevent her leaving until it was too late.

Her host fought her and she slowed, devoting more of her efforts into controlling him. He was strong. Very strong. He did not fear her, not in the normal way a host feared a symbiote. He knew what she was, even if it was at the most basic knowledge of her species. He called her goa'uld, and ignored her when she tried to correct him.

She was not a goa'uld, not an abuser. She had tried to explain that to him, but he had ignored her, stubbornly sticking to his opinion that she was a bastard goa'uld. He was spirited. Normally she would admire his spirit and strength. But now she found it bothersome. The more he fought her, the more of her energy she had to devote to controlling him. She didn't like to control, it was not her way. However, she had no choice. She knew from digging into his memories that, if she was discovered, she would be imprisoned. And that could not happen. The knowledge she bore was too vital to lose it while she spent days or weeks trying to free herself.

No. It was best if they never knew that she was here.

A few more hours. That was all she needed. A few more hours. Then SG-1 would be assigned its mission and she could leave this world. She could go home, insure that her knowledge was relayed to her fellow Tok'ra and the search could begin for a host to replace this one. Presuming, of course, that he did not make peace with their blending and wish to maintain it.

A part of her hoped that this would happen. Her host was an honorable man, strong and brave. He would make a fantastic Tok'ra and she knew that his tactical knowledge would assist them greatly. However, his gender would be a bit of an issue. Many of the Tok'ra hosts were acceptable to same gender relationship, but this host was not. She knew that he would find the idea of being intimate with Lantash and Martouf to be abhorrent. Which meant that she would likely be leaving him, either in favor of a female host, or a male host who possessed no gender bias.

"Jack!" Jolinar turned identifying the person walking towards her.

"Daniel," she greeted, planning to do everything she could to keep this conversation short. She had already had one close call this day, surprisingly discovering that the young alien girl, and the naqahdah in her blood, had given her the ability to sense the presence of a symbiote.

This was not something that Jolinar had expected. All symbiotes could sense the presence of another, yet it had never been determined what gave them that ability. Because of that, she'd felt no need to keep herself from the girl's presence. Fortunately, she'd been able to silence the child, for the time being anyway. She had no doubt that Cassandra would eventually share her knowledge. Jolinar just hoped that it would take a few more hours before her secret was known.

"I'm aah, I'm surprised that you're here," Daniel said, catching up with him.

"Where else would I be? Seeing as we ship out to find the Nasyians a new home in a couple of hours?" Jolinar asked, trying to keep her host's voice casual.

"I'm just…with Cassie and all, I thought you'd be home," Daniel said.

"What's wrong with Cassie?"

"Well, what I've heard is that she's locked in her room. Sam went to go and see if she could talk her out," Daniel explained.

"Carter has no business leaving. Not without telling me and not considering that we need to go off world in a little bit," Jolinar said, drawing on her host's sudden burst of anger and concern.

"I thought she told you."

"Told me what?"

"Sam's not going off world," Daniel said. "She has a doctor's appointment this afternoon for her biopsy."

"What's wrong with her?" Jolinar suddenly regretted ignoring her host's suggestions to read the information that had been waiting for them when they'd arrived at the facility this morning. Jolinar knew that it was part of his normal routine to assimilate such information, but she'd thought his urgings were just a way to fight her and distract her.

"Her leg's infected. She's going to have some heavy duty treatment to see if they can save it," Daniel said.

"Really? That's too bad," Jolinar said, schooling her host's face into one of concern. While she experienced her host's worry for the captain, her attention was diverted by the man's other words. Carter was talking to Cassandra. That was not good. If the girl would confide in anyone, it would be the captain. They would know.

Suddenly realizing that she was out of time, she spun on her heel, suddenly seeing the narrow gray halls not as a refuge but as a prison. She would never make it through the chaappai, not now. If the Tau'ri did not know of her presence, they would soon.

Out. She had to get out. Find somewhere to hide. Find another way to get off this planet and go back home.

"Jack!" Daniel called after him. "Where are you going? Jack!"

Jolinar ignored him, her sole focus now getting free. She needed to get out of here and find somewhere safe.

XXXXXXXXXX

"What precisely happened here?" Hammond demanded, studying the quartet of people gathered around the briefing room table, Doctor Fraiser joining the three remaining members of SG-1.

"We don't have all the details, sir, but I think it's a safe bet that there was a goa'uld presence on Nasyia," Sam said, feeling the need to state the obvious.

"You said there wasn't."

"Initially, sir, we didn't see any signs," she said. "Usually if there's a goa'uld, there's a palace or mine or something like that. What we saw was a peaceful village." She shrugged. "Appearances were obviously deceiving."

"Or maybe we just saw what we wanted to see," Daniel said.

"Daniel?"

"Well, think about it. Kawalsky walked around this base for days and we never knew that he had a goa'uld. When we analyzed the MALP readings, we just assumed that if there was a goa'uld presence, it would be obvious."

"But everyone that we talked to said that it had been generations since the goa'uld had been there," she reminded.

"Major Kawalsky's goa'uld was immature," Janet said. "It was unable to exert full control over the host."

"True," Daniel conceded. "But you examined Jack yesterday and until Doctor Warner did a MRI on Kawalsky, we didn't know. The goa'uld obviously has some way of entering the host other than through the back of the neck. A way that doesn't leave a mark."

Janet shrugged. "The parasite's goal is to attach itself to the brain stem. The soft tissue at the back of the throat could work. It's also possible that it can enter the body another way, maybe in the abdomen and work its way up to the neck," she theorized.

"Oh, my god," Sam muttered. "On the planet, I…my leg hurt and I tripped. The colonel came back for me but he fell over this body. There was some blood but he just said he bit his tongue and that it was no big deal."

"You think it's possible that's when it happened?" Hammond asked.

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I just…things were confusing with the attack and all but I think that's really the only time we were separated. And Doctor Fraiser mentioned the blood."

"If Colonel O'Neill really bit his own tongue hard enough to make it bleed, I would have seen some sign of it," Fraiser said.

"This still doesn't explain why there were no signs of a goa'uld presence on the planet," Hammond said

"What if, that's because the goa'uld didn't want there to be," Daniel suggested.

"Doctor Jackson?"

"What if the goa'uld wasn't there to conquer the planet, he was there to hide?"

"It is possible," Teal'c said. "However a goa'uld's natural need to rule and dominate makes such a tactic unlikely."

"Not if they were on the run and afraid for their lives," Daniel insisted. "As far as we know, goa'uld live for centuries—millennia maybe. Hiding for twenty to thirty years would be like going away for the weekend."

"So, presuming Cassandra is right and there is a goa'uld in Colonel O'Neill, it could simply vanish for a couple of decades?" Hammond asked.

"I don't think so, sir," Sam spoke up.

"Captain?"

"Sir, there's a difference between Earth and other planets, and that's accessibility to the Stargate. It's possible that the goa'uld didn't mean to come here, it just got caught up in the evacuation."

"If that is true, it will not wish to remain here," Teal'c said.

"Right. I mean, if I was in the same situation, the first thing I'd want to do would be to get off this planet and go home," Sam said.

"What do you mean, Captain?"

"General, the goa'uld has access to Colonel O'Neill's knowledge and memories. It knows that it'll never be allowed to build a kingdom. And it also knows that the Stargate is its only way off this planet. At least for the time being, I think it'll stay close to here, maybe even try to gain access to the gate," she explained.

"So what? Post a few more guards?" Daniel suggested.

"I believe the opposite would be more effective," Teal'c said.

"A trap," Janet said.

"Indeed."

Daniel shook his head. "I don't think Jack will fall for that. He'll know that's what we'll do."

"We can't second guess ourselves," Hammond said. "I will instruct the perimeter teams to allow O'Neill go gain access to this facility, however he will NOT be permitted to leave this planet, even if we have to use deadly force."

"General," Janet protested.

"Doctor, Colonel O'Neill's knowledge is far too valuable to allow it to fall into enemy hands," he said.

"If Captain Carter is incorrect and O'Neill's possession was not happenstance but a deliberate act, we must consider that he may have planted a device of destruction on this base," Teal'c said.

Hammond nodded. "If there's any tampering here, I want it found. Teal'c, I'd like you to help. You know better than anyone what to look for." Teal'c nodded. "I do think that we need to keep looking for Colonel O'Neill."

"General, Pete might be able to help us out," Sam volunteered.

"Captain?"

"We don't have any jurisdiction outside this mountain, even looking for one of our own. Pete might be able to…smooth the way with the local police."

"That may be to our benefit," he agreed. "Captain, I need to know how to contact Detective Shanahan. Teal'c, presuming he agrees, and once you have cleared this facility, you will be working with Shanahan to apprehend O'Neill. Doctor Jackson, I would like you to coordinate with Doctor Fraiser. I want every Nasyian examined to make sure that the goa'uld in Colonel O'Neill is the only one."

"General?" Sam asked, waiting for her assignment.

"Captain, you have other matters to attend to," he said, earning him a grateful look from Fraiser.

"Sir," she protested.

"That is an order. I've already lost one officer; I don't need to lose another." He got to his feet, signaling the end of the briefing. "Dismissed."

XXXXXXXXXX

The door to the VIP room opened and Sara looked up, motioning for Captain Carter to come in. "How is she?" she whispered. Cassie was asleep on the bed and Charlie was seated in a chair in the corner of the room, playing on his muted game boy.

"Doctor Fraiser says she's fine," Sara said, ushering Captain Carter back towards the door. The two women stepped into the hall so that they could talk without waking Cassie. "He just scared her."

"That's good," Carter said. "Umm, I don't mean that, I mean—"

"I know what you mean," Sara interrupted. "And thank you."

"If you want, I can help you get some stuff," Carter offered.

Sara shook her head. "What stuff?"

Carter frowned. "Well, don't they need some clothes or something?"

"What are you talking about?"

Carter looked surprised. "I thought you'd be staying here for the time being."

"Here?"

"At least until they find Colonel O'Neill and—"

Sara shook her head. "We're not staying here. I just brought Cassandra in so that Doctor Fraiser could make sure she was ok. As soon as she's awake, we're going home."

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Carter asked.

"Captain?"

"Ma'am, Colonel O'Neill is still out there."

"I know."

"And he's got a goa'uld in him."

"I know that too," Sara said evenly, trying to hide her disgust at the idea of her husband possessed by one of those creatures. She knew that's what had killed Charlie Kawalsky, her newly acquired clearance giving Jack the ability to tell her that much. And she knew just how cruel a goa'uld could be, if how Daniel's wife had been treated was any example. But she refused to believe that even possession by that alien could make her husband dangerous. Jack would not hurt her, or the children. She knew it in her bones.

"Mrs. O'Neill, with all due respect, your husband is a very dangerous man right now."

Sara shook her head. "Jack would never hurt me or the children," she insisted.

"Cassie—"

"He scared her, that's all. If he wanted to hurt her, she would be. We're going to go home."

"Mrs. O'Neill, I still don't think that—"

"I know you mean well, Captain. And thank you for your concern, but I know my husband. He has to know that you're looking for him, he's not going to be stupid enough to come back home. And even if he does, he won't hurt us," Sara said, her voice resolute and calm. "Unless of course, these nice officers are going to restrain us and keep us here against our will."

Carter stared at her, almost as if the woman wanted to challenge her words. "I'll talk to the general," she finally said.

"Thank you," Sara said, reaching for the door knob. She stepped back into the room and closed the door, shutting the captain out.

"Mom?"

Sara smiled, putting her finger over her lips to hush Charlie. She made her way over to him and knelt at his side. "As soon as Cassie feels like it, we're going to go home," she told him.

"But dad—"

"Your dad will be home when he feels better," she said. "Is that ok with you?" He stared at her for a few seconds, and then nodded. "Now, why don't you show me how to play this game," she said, seeking not only to distract him, but herself as well. Despite the confident face she'd put forth for Captain Carter, she wasn't quite ready to deal with things yet. She would, eventually. Just not right now. Because, right now, she didn't think she could handle the fact that the man in her bed last night hadn't been her husband.

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel followed Janet as she walked through the crowded halls of the academy hospital. The Nasyians were confined to one wing with guards from the SGC close by, just in case anyone got too curious. Fortunately, the Nasyians were too grateful to question their near captivity, something Daniel didn't know if he was grateful for or disturbed by.

"How long do you think it will take to run tests on everyone?" he asked.

Janet shook her head, glancing back at him. "Days," she said simply. "At least we know what we're looking for, but since we need to make sure nothing is…lurking, we have to do a full body scan," she explained. "And that takes time."

"Well, at least we'll have time to find them a new home," he said, looking for a bright spot.

"How's that going?" she asked, leading him into the secure wing.

He shrugged. "We're looking. Finding a planet is easy, finding a good planet is hard. We don't want to make them have to move more than once."

"I'm sure they'll appreciate that," she said ironically.

Daniel didn't respond, well aware that the doctor found the security measures to be intrusive. He knew that she understood the need for security, but she also thought the armed guards were just a bit too much to guard some traumatized and injured refugees. "I'm going to go talk to some of them," he said.

Janet nodded. "Ok. You need something, just have me paged or you can leave a message in my office."

"I will, thanks," he said. He turned and made his way down one of the corridors, glancing in the open doors. He saw a woman standing beside an open window and he paused, standing in the doorway. Seeming to sense his presence, she turned around. "Oh, excuse me."

"Your world is an amazing place," she said, not bothered by his intrusion.

"It can be, um, I'm Daniel," he introduced.

"You are one of the men responsible for saving us."

"Yeah," he confirmed.

"We owe you great thanks," she said sincerely.

"Can we, er, can we talk a minute?"

"Of course," she agreed.

"Did you ever notice anything odd going on?"

"Odd?" she asked.

"Strange people. Maybe friends of yours acting differently," he fished, trying to get info without coaching her too much.

"I do not remember." She slowly shook her head.

"What about…an injury?" he asked.

"Injury?"

"Maybe a cut or scar on the back of someone's neck." He turned his head, pointing to the base of his skull. He traced his fingers from the base of his skull to the top of his neck. "Back here?"

"No…Wait," she said slowly. "Yes. My husband."

"Your husband?"

"Yes."

"Do you often have visitors through the stargate?"

"Stargate?"

"The circle, the aah, chaappai," he said.

"Occasionally," she said.

"Did you have a visitor before your husband got his scar?"

She shook her head. "No. But there was a ship."

"A ship?"

"Yes. A ship crashed. My husband and some other men from the village went to help, but it was too late," she said.

"Too late?"

"The pilot was dead. They buried her and returned."

"Did they bring anything back? Scavenge anything from the wreck?"

She nodded. "Some, bits of metal, some of her supplies. It was not as if she would need them," she excused. "And we lack the ability to refine metal. Arlan fabricated seven plow blades from the metal."

"No, no, you're right," he said. "A corpse doesn't need possessions."

"Did he act strange after he came back? Get angry, talk funny…did his eyes glow?" She stared at him, a fearful expression crossing her face. "Why don't I let you rest?" he said, realizing the he'd pushed too far.

She nodded and Daniel slipped from the room, closing the door behind him. Well, now he knew where Jack's snake had come from, unfortunately that knowledge didn't help him much with finding his friend.

His mind distracted, Daniel started to walk down the hall, coming to an abrupt stop when Janet stepped out of a room. "Whoa," he said, reaching out his hands to steady her. "I'm sorry. Are you ok?"

"What? Yeah," she mumbled, staring at him for a second. "I just aah…he aah…didn't—" Her hands fluttered at shoulder level, making gestures towards the room she'd just left. He glanced over her shoulder and could see the shrouded bed, the unmistakable shape of a body silhouetted against the window.

"I'm sorry," Daniel said, interrupting, frowning a bit. Janet didn't usually get that upset over simply losing a patient, but she had been very busy lately, and he knew she'd gotten to know many of the refugees.

"It happens," she dismissed. "Did you finish?"

"Yeah," he said. "I think I know where the goa'uld in Jack came from."

"Really?" she asked, suddenly interested.

Daniel nodded. "Yeah. Talia's husband. I think when he was killed, the goa'uld jumped into Jack."

"That is very possible," she said. "However, I do not understand how knowing where the goa'uld came from assists you in finding Colonel O'Neill."

"Umm, well, it doesn't exactly," he said. "But, you know, it probably means that Jack's goa'uld was the only one there," he said.

"Right, it probably was," she agreed. "Come on, let's go get something to eat," she suggested.

"Umm…what about—" He motioned over her shoulder, towards the room.

She looked over her shoulder and shrugged. "There's nothing more I can do for him," she said.

She pulled him down the corridor and he fell into step, letting her lead him to the cafeteria.

Neither of them noticed the tall figure that slipped into the corpse's room, emerging just seconds later.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sara glanced out the front door, frowning at the sight of the dark blue sedan parked halfway up the block. "You boys need to get a hobby," she sighed. She didn't know how much more of this she could take. They'd been out there all day and all night every day for the past two weeks.

Maybe she'd made a mistake when she'd left the mountain, but she just hadn't been able to take it anymore. General Hammond hadn't been fond of it, openly preferring for her and the kids to stay at Cheyenne Mountain until Jack was found. But she'd talked her way out of it. Cassie hadn't liked it. The girl had openly preferred staying in the mountain. And they had for a night, then Sara had talked her into going home, using the guards as a security blanket for the girl. Sara knew there was no way in hell that Jack would hurt any of them, but that was a lesson Cassie had yet to learn.

"Mom?" Charlie stepped to her side. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, forcing a smile on her face.

"They're still out there?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, cursing her son's observant nature. "General Hammond is just being careful," she said.

"They think dad will come here."

"They do," she confirmed.

"They're stupid."

"Charlie."

"Mom, they are," he insisted. "Dad's not stupid enough to come back here. He has to know that this is the first place they'll look," he said, confident in his childish logic. "He won't come back here until he's better."

Sara smiled, comforted by her son's steadfast trust in his father. She reached out and ruffled his hair. "What do you say we take Cassie out to the park," she suggested.

"She won't want to go," he said, following her as she made her way to the stairs.

"I know," Sara replied, climbing the stairs. She walked to Cassie's room and knocked on the door, opening it after a second. Cassie was sitting on her bed, a book open in her lap. She'd been quiet the past couple of weeks, spending most of her time in her room. "Hey." Sara moved to sit beside Cassie on the bed. "We were going to go outside and play, want to come?" she asked, keeping her voice light. Cassie shook her head. "It'll be fun," Sara insisted.

"I don't want to," Cassie said.

"Come on," Charlie pleaded.

"I don't want to," Cassie repeated, raising her voice.

"Cass—" The doorbell rang, interrupting Sara.

"I'll get it," Charlie volunteered, quickly making his way from the room.

Sara let him go, trusting that the guards outside wouldn't let anyone threatening ring the doorbell. "Cassie, you can't stay in here forever," she said softly, reaching out for the girl. "Jack won't hurt you, I promise," she said.

"He said he would," she whispered.

"He was wrong," Sara insisted.

"Mom, look who's here," Charlie said, leading Frank Cromwell into the room.

"Frank." Sara gave Cassie a reassuring squeeze and slid off the bed, awkwardly straightening her hair. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Neither did I," he shrugged. "I was just driving by and thought I'd drop in," he said casually.

"We were going to go to the park," Charlie said. "But Cassie doesn't want to go."

"Now why is that?" he asked, moving closer to Cassie's bed. Sara stepped back, sensing that maybe Frank could give her daughter the reassurance that she couldn't.

Cassie shrunk down in the bed slightly, and then looked up at him defiantly. "I don't want to," she said.

He shrugged. "Ok. Did I ever tell you about how me and your dad met?" he asked, sitting on the bed. She shook her head. "It was almost twenty years ago. We were both green lieutenants. He was having a tough time with his hand to hand combat skills. Kept getting his butt kicked. Guess who taught him enough so that he passed?" he asked. She hesitated for a few seconds, and then pointed at him. "Yep. And I can still kick his butt. So, what do you say we go to the zoo, maybe get hot dogs and ice cream," he suggested, giving Sara an apologetic glance.

"What if dad comes?" she asked.

"He won't come back until he feels better," Charlie said.

Cassie looked at the two of them then turned her attention to Sara. "It'll be ok," Sara reassured her.

"Ok," Cassie agreed. Frank got off the bed and Cassie followed him, bending over to pick up her shoes. "I want to see Sam," she said as she slid her feet into the tennis shoes.

"Captain Carter," Sara explained, answering Frank's raised eyebrows. "She's in the Academy Hospital."

"Right, I heard about that," he said. "We can see her, if you think she's up to visitors."

"I'm sure she is," Sara said, cursing herself for her narrow mindedness. She should have thought of this before. Cassie adored the captain and if there was anyone she'd overcome her fear for and leave the house, it was Captain Carter.

"It sounds like a plan then," Frank said. "We'll go to the park, have some fun, get something to eat and then visit Carter on the way home."

Cassie agreed and in a matter of minutes the four of them were making their way outside, coats in hand. It may be spring in Colorado, but there was still a chill in the air. "Thank you," Sara said, getting into the front seat of Frank's car. "It'll be great to get out."

"I told you I'd always be here," he said softly, shoving his key into the ignition. "Next stop, the park," he said, raising his voice and looking over his shoulder. "Seatbelts fastened?"

Getting an affirmative, he pulled out from the curb and Sara leaned her head against the back of the seat, closing her eyes. It was all so normal. And if she tried hard enough, she could pretend that the person sitting next to her was her husband instead of his best friend.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam flipped through the channels, fighting her boredom as talk show after talk show flickered across the screen. You would think for as much technology as the Air Force possessed, they could spring for the premium channels in their hospital.

She shifted position, trying to alleviate the numb feeling in her butt. The infection in her leg had taken a turn for the worse a few days ago. It wasn't responding to conventional antibiotics, so Doctor Frasier felt it was better for her to be admitted to the hospital and for them to try some IV antibiotics. Along with that, they had performed surgery on her leg, trying to stem the infection at the source.

As a result, it was definitely difficult for her to get around, having to use crutches or a wheel chair. That was the part she hated most of all, being helpless and dependant upon others. She refused to think about what would happen if the treatment failed.

Giving up on the TV, she reached for her mug of water, taking a deep drink. She was incredibly thirsty, something she knew was a side effect of the antibiotics and also a symptom of the fever she was running. The infection in her leg had started to affect the rest of her body. Not only did her leg ache a large portion of the time, but she generally felt ill now, almost like she had a perpetual cold, without the stuffy nose part.

The door to her room opened and she groaned, definitely not in the mood for a visitor. Daniel and even Teal'c had been good, making the effort to drop in at least once a day. At first, she'd looked forward to their visits, eager for the gossip and chance to alleviate the boredom. But, as the days passed, she started to not want them to come. It was too hard anymore, too hard to put forth a brave face. Too hard to smile at gossip she didn't care about. Too hard to ignore the possibility that was becoming more and more real with each passing day—that they wouldn't cure the infection and that the only way to save her life would be to amputate her leg.

"I hope we're not intruding," Sara O'Neill said, peeking around the door. Cassie hurried past her, jumping up on the edge of Sam's bed while Charlie limped in slower, trailed by Major Cromwell. "Cassie wanted to come see you."

"Aah, no, you're fine, thank you," Sam said, surprised.

"I got these for you," Cassie said, handing Sam a battered nosegay of wild flowers.

"I helped her pick them," Charlie said.

"They're beautiful," Sam said, looking around for somewhere to put the flowers. Cromwell stepped forward, bending over to snag one of Daniel's discarded coffee cups from the trash. He took the flowers from her and made his way over to the sink where he rinsed it out and filled it with water, plopping the flowers into the makeshift vase.

"Here you go, Captain," he said, returning the flowers to Sam.

"Thank you, sir."

"We went to the park," Cassie said. "They had swings."

"Did they?" Sam asked.

"She likes the swings," Charlie said. "But she won't play on the merry go round," he complains.

"She gets dizzy," Sara explained. "How are you feeling?" She asked.

"I'm—ok," Sam said, not wanting to go into details.

Sara nodded, glancing back at Cromwell as if to gain confirmation of Sam's words. "Can you come play with us next time?" Cassie asked, seemingly not aware of the tension in the room.

"Cassie, I don't—"

"Sure she can," Sara interrupted. "We'll even have a picnic. The weather's getting nicer now."

"Mrs. O'Neill—"

Sara's cell phone rang and she reached for it. "Mom, you're supposed to turn it off," Charlie said. "The sign said so."

"Hello?" she answered, ignoring her son. "Yes. Are you sure?" Sam looked at her, picking up on the tone of her voice. "Ok. We'll be right there." She hung up her phone, opening her mouth, then censoring herself as she realized the children were in the room. "Frank, I need to run an errand," she said. "Can you take the kids home?"

"Sara? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just…I need to do something," she said, looking at him desperately. "It's important, Frank."

"Ok," he relented. "Not a problem. Where can I drop you off?" he asked.

"Damnit," Sara muttered.

"Mrs. O'Neill?" Sam asked, having a gut feeling what the phone message had been. It had to have been about the colonel. That was the only thing she could think of that would be that important but still be something that Cromwell couldn't know.

"We'll just have to run by the house and get my car," Sara said.

"Maybe not," Sam said, reaching for the phone. Her four guests stared during Sam's short conversation. "Doctor Frasier's still here," Sam reported, hanging up the phone. "She can give you a ride if you get down to her office right away."

Sara sighed. "Frank?"

"Go," he said. "I'll get the kids home and wait for you."

"Thank you," she said, grabbing Frank's arm. "And thank you," she said to Sam. She hurried from the room, leaving Sam alone with Cromwell and the kids.

"You know what the phone call was about, don't you?" he asked.

"I can't say, sir," Sam said.

Cromwell sighed. "Why does that not surprise me," he muttered. "Ok, kids. It's time to go," he declared.

"But I don't want to," Cassie protested.

"Cassie," Sam said. "You need to do what Major Cromwell tells you to do."

"But Sam—"

"Cassandra." Sam looked her in the eyes. "Please." She nodded slowly. "If your mom says it's ok, maybe you can come back another day."

Charlie moved over and grabbed his sister's hand, gently pulling her down from the bed. He led her from the room and Sam watched the trio leave. Hopefully her instinct was right and they'd found the colonel. She just hoped that the goa'uld in him was gone and prayed that he didn't end up like Kawalsky.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Is he ok?" Sara asked striding ahead of Doctor Frasier as the two of them entered the mountain. Daniel Jackson was waiting for them, holding the elevator doors open.

"Physically, yeah," he said as the doors closed. He pushed the button for level twenty-three while the doctor chose twenty-one.

"I need to report in," she explained.

"Physically?" Sara pressed.

"He's not really talking but it appears that he's been living off the land for the past couple of weeks. He was dirty and…" he broke off, as the doors opened, not wanting to paint the picture for her.

"I'll meet you downstairs," Frasier promised. The doors closed.

"Fortunately, the symbiote within him seemed to protect him from any infections or illnesses so, other than a little skinnier, he's in pretty good shape," Daniel continued.

"Especially for a man with an alien in control of his body," she said tightly.

The elevator door opened and Daniel stepped out, indicating for Sara to follow him. He led her into the observation room, motioning down through the large windows. "We've shaded the glass, he can't see you," he said. She stepped forward, laying her fingers on the smooth surface.

Jack was down below, strapped to a gurney. As per General Hammond's orders, the SF's outside had let Jack breach security. He'd made it in, and nearly made it to the gate room. Daniel had a feeling that, as soon as this mess was over, General Hammond was going to be reviewing base security.

It had taken near deadly force to stop him, or more accurately, Teal'c and a zat along with Sergeant Williamson and his side arm. "What happened to him?" she asked.

"Teal'c tried to zat him, it didn't work, so one of the SF's…"

"Zat?"

"It's a non-lethal weapon that we acquired. Well, it's not totally non-lethal, one shot stuns, two shots kills and three—"

"I get the picture," she interrupted. "What else?"

They'd removed Jack's clothes and he was wearing only a pair of infirmary pajama bottoms, which did nothing to conceal the large white bandage on his chest. "Apparently goa'ulds are resistant to zats. One of the SF's had to shoot him to keep him from getting through the gate. On the bright side, the goa'uld seems to be healing the injury. It'll probably heal without a scar," he said, injecting a note of enthusiasm into his voice.

"Oh I feel so much better," Sara quipped. "What are you going to do now?"

He shook his head. "What—"

"How are you going to get that thing out of him and get me my husband back?" she demanded.

"We aah, we don't know yet." As they watched, another officer walked into the room, dismissing the nurses. "That's Colonel Makepeace," Daniel introduced. "You know, maybe we should—"

"He's going to interrogate him?" Sara asked.

"Umm, yeah."

"I'm staying," she said.

"Hey, Jack. You really screwed up here you know. I mean, you really blew it," Makepeace said.

"You are weak," Jack said, slowly turning his head as the colonel walked around him.

"Who's tied up bars right now?"

"Your tactics will not work on me," Jack said, his voice astonishingly confident. "My host knows all your tactics. I believe he even taught you some of them."

"Not buying it, huh?" Makepeace asked.

"You must let me go."

"After all the trouble we went into to catch your sorry ass?" Makepeace said. "I don't think so." He pulled up a stool and sat at Jack's side. "How about this, you leave Jack and we'll toss your slimy little butt through the gate."

Jack merely gave Colonel Makepeace a cold look and turned his head, staring steadily at the far wall. Sara stood there for a few minutes then turned.

"Sara?" Daniel asked, afraid that he'd made a bad decision in bringing her into the observation room.

She grabbed a chair and rolled it over to the window, sitting down with a sigh. "You better get a chair Daniel. This is going to take a while."

XXXXXXXXXX

Colonel Robert Makepeace sat on the stool, his arms crossed over his chest. He stared at Jack, fighting to remind himself that the person lying restrained on the bed wasn't his friend and half-hearted rival, but the personification of evil. They'd sat like this for almost an hour, each silently ignoring the other. And about the only thing Bob was regretting was his second cup of coffee this morning.

"Let me go," Jack finally said. "Let me go through the Stargate. I will find another host and send your friend back to you," he bargained.

"You can do that? Leave a host without killing them?" Bob asked, oddly intrigued. All their intel said 'once a host, always a host'. Then again, none of their intel came from those that would be 'in the know'.

"Yes. It is possible, but not easy. I could die, but I promise I will try."

"The Nasyian man died when you left him," Bob said, playing a hunch. It was a gamble. They only suspected that was where Jack's snake came from..

"The Nasyian man died first," Jack said, confirming their theory. "That is why I left him. He was beyond my natural abilities to heal."

"What were you doing in him in the first place?" Bob asked. This goa'uld's behavior didn't make any sense. There was nothing on Nasyia worth conquering. And, so far, this snake hadn't made a single demand.

"O'Neill's mind would be intact. He would return to you as you knew him before," Jack said, ignoring Bob's question.

"You know I can't trust you."

"I could have killed you and many others at any time. The ease at which I gained access to this base was laughable. My host was quite surprised."

Bob chuckled. "You don't think you got in because we let you in? Please. Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack. Tactics 101. You don't have to go after your quarry when he's stupid enough to come to you." Bob leaned forward, resting his hands on the edge of the gurney. "Two minds really aren't better than one, Jack. You're stupid, and so's your snake."

"I have done nothing to harm you. Why do you keep me here?"

"Because, while you're a pain in the ass, Jack, you know too much for us to ever let you go. So, which cell do you want, the one on level 16 or level 22?"

XXXXXXXXXX

'I told you this wasn't going to work,' Jack said. He felt Jolinar's back rise. One thing this creature wasn't tolerant of was being told that it was wrong. If the damn creature had just listened, they wouldn't be here right now. "Let me talk to him," Jack requested.

'You—'

'You have been going on and on about being a team. Well, now it's time to prove it,' Jack said, losing his patience. For the past two weeks, they'd been doing things Jolinar's way, including the snake's insane idea of getting through the gate and going back to its people. 'Let me talk to him,' Jack demanded.

He felt the creature fade, still not accustomed to the sensation. Jolinar had only given him control a bare handful of times, largely in response to Jack's accusations of the creature lying to him. Jack shook his head slightly and took a deep breath, trying to regain his equilibrium. "I need to talk to Teal'c," he said.

"You're not in the position to make any requests," Makepeace said. "You want to talk to Teal'c; you need to let me talk to Jack."

"You are," Jack said.

"Aahah."

"Look, you idiotic Jar head. Pull your head out of your ass and get Teal'c in here," Jack demanded, losing what little patience he had left. He did not have time for this.

Makepeace was taken aback and craned his neck, looking up at the observation room. Whoever was up there must have given him the high sign as he rolled his stool back and stood up. "Don't go anywhere," he said.

"Funny," Jack muttered, his hands tugging at the restraints.

'I do not see how speaking to the Jaffa will assist our position,' Jolinar said.

'He's the only person in this place that's likely to believe your cockamamie story,' Jack said. 'I tried to tell you, they're not just going to let us go through the gate. We need to earn their trust and Teal'c is one step in that direction.'

'I hope that you are correct.'

'Yeah, like what are you going to do if I'm wrong?' Jack asked. 'Not talk to me? Oh, here's an idea, maybe you can crawl out of my head and leave me alone,' he ranted.

Inside his head, Jack felt the creature sigh, or as close as it could come to a sigh and he closed his eyes. With any luck, Teal'c was coming. Now all he needed to do was convince the Jaffa that he was who and what he said he was and that the SGC needed not only to trust Jack, but to believe him as well.

XXXXXXXXXX

The door to the observation room opened and Sara turned, recognizing the portly form of General Hammond. "General." She stood up, turning to face him.

"Mrs. O'Neill, Doctor Jackson. How's he doing?" he asked, walking towards them.

"You don't think you got in because we let you in? Please. Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack. Tactics 101. You don't have to go after your quarry when he's stupid enough to come to you." Colonel Makepeace's voice echoed through the speakers, the man's mocking tone clear. "Two minds really aren't better than one, Jack. You're stupid, and so's your snake."

"Not very well," Sara said drolly.

"He sounds like a goa'uld," Daniel said.

"How are you going to get that thing out of him?" Sara asked, turning to look at her husband. She winced at the tone of his voice. He sounded so cold, so hard. His voice reverberated slightly and sounded almost mechanical, bearing just a passing resemblance to her husband's rich, soft tones.

"We don't quite know yet," Hammond admitted. "In truth, Mrs. O'Neill, our experience with the goa'uld is rather limited."

"Limited? What do you mean by limited?"

"There's only been one other member of this command taken as a host," the general said.

"And?" Sara asked, her frustration growing.

"He didn't survive," Daniel said.

"Are you telling me that my husband is as good as dead?" she demanded.

"Sara. A goa'uld possesses a host's mind and body. It's very possible that Jack's…that he aah.."

"Mrs. O'Neill," Hammond interrupted. "It is very possible that the body of your husband down there is all there is. His body may be alive but his mind, all that makes Jack O'Neill, Jack O'Neill is gone," Hammond said.

"Look, you idiotic Jar head. Pull your head out of your ass and get Teal'c in here." Jack's voice echoed loudly through the speakers, possessing none of the resonance of his earlier words. Sara stared for a second, and then started to laugh, earning her a few looks from Daniel and General Hammond.

"Mrs. O'Neill?" Hammond said, concerned. "Are you all right?"

"That's my husband," she said.

"Sara—"

"Daniel, you know him. That's Jack," she insisted.

Daniel looked at her and shrugged. "She's right, General. That sounded like Jack."

Sara looked through the window, seeing Colonel Makepeace looking up at them, seeking counsel. "Let him talk to Teal'c," she requested.

"Mrs.—"

"General, please. That was my husband talking and he wants to talk to Teal'c. Please let him."

The general stared at her for a few seconds, and then sighed, nodding to the man below. Makepeace took his guidance, leaving the room, presumably to get Teal'c.

"Now what?" Daniel asked.

"Now we see what Colonel O'Neill tells Teal'c," Hammond said.

Sara ignored him, retaking her chair and looking through the window. They had him, physically at least. Now all they needed to do was to get that thing out of his head and she would have her husband back.

XXXXXXXXXX

Teal'c walked into the room, schooling his face into a blank mask. O'Neill lay restrained to a narrow bed, his arms and feet bound by sturdy leather straps. He knew that O'Neill had been injured and the clean white bandage attached to the man's chest was mute testament to that fact. His former leader was a bit thinner and a few bruises colored his skin, bruises Teal'c wasn't sure came from his capture or perhaps from his time running.

"You have requested my presence?" Teal'c asked, ignoring how his symbiote writhed in the presence of the goa'uld.

"Teal'c, you need to let me go," O'Neill said.

"They will not let you go," Teal'c said calmly.

"Teal'c, the Tau'ri have become very powerful in the time since the Goa'uld were here. You know the System Lords won't allow this to go unchecked. I can give you information that can help defend against attack."

"The Tau'ri are more powerful than you know," Teal'c said, speaking to the goa'uld. "Already a Goa'uld attack on Earth has been thwarted. As you would know from your host's memories."

"Yeah, I know, Teal'c, I was there," O'Neill said, sounding far more like Teal'c's friend than a goa'uld. "And according to the snake in my head, there's probably more powerful assault is already being planned."

"That is likely what you wish the Tau'ri to believe," Teal'c said, not wishing to be fooled as he was before with Kawalsky.

"I got a news flash for ya, Teal'c. Not all Goa'uld are the same. There are a few that oppose the System Lords. They're called the Tok'ra."

"Every Goa'uld seeks power for his own reason and would betray his own brother to achieve it," Teal'c said.

"Some seek power for a greater purpose. Not every Goa'uld is an enemy to Earth. The Tok'ra are real, no matter what Apophis has told you," O'Neill said calmly. Too calm. There was no ranting, no yelling, just a simple statement of fact.

'I have yet to meet one," Teal'c said, refusing to believe O'Neill's words. It couldn't be true. The Tok'ra were just legends, stories told to scare young Jaffa. They were mythical excuses Jaffa used to explain their weaknesses and failings.

"You have now," O'Neill said. "The snake's name is Jolinar of Malkshur."

XXXXXXXXXX

Hammond looked over the small group gathered in the observation room. "What exactly just happened down there?" he demanded.

"There is an old legend among the Jaffa for them to speak of concerning a group of Goa'uld who opposed the ways of the System Lords. This group is called the Tok'ra. This Goa'uld, Jolinar of Malkshur, claims to be part of that group," Teal'c said.

"Can you be sure he is who he says he is?" Daniel asked.

"I cannot," Teal'c said. "If the Tok'ra were easily identified, they system lords would have crushed them from existence centuries ago."

"Resistance," Daniel blurted out.

"What?" Sara asked.

"Tok'ra—against Ra. Resistance," he explained.

"The Tok'ra is a small alliance of Goa'uld who oppose the System Lords. It was my teacher Bra'tac who first spoke to me of them."

"What does this mean?" Sara demanded. "I thought you said it was a goa'uld that was in Jack."

"It is, probably," Daniel said, ignoring her sharp look. "Physically anyway. It's possible that these Tok'ra are just, different politically."

"This could be to our advantage," Teal'c said.

"Teal'c?"

"General Hammond, if the goa'uld within Colonel O'Neill is indeed a Tok'ra, he may possess much tactical knowledge. We may benefit if we can persuade him to share that knowledge with us," he explained.

"It's also possible that this goa'uld within O'Neill could be lying, spinning a tale to gain our trust," Hammond said.

"It's quite a spin," Daniel said.

"Jack knows better," Sara said. "He knows you won't trust him."

"He's right," Hammond said.

"I believe Jolinar speaks the truth," Teal'c said.

"Me too," Daniel said.

"Well, I don't," Hammond said. "Not yet." He glanced at Sara and sighed. "I'm sorry, Mrs. O'Neill. But Colonel O'Neil is staying where he is for the time being." He turned, ready to leave the room.

"General," Sara spoke up. Hammond turned back. "Can you at least…Jack doesn't like being tied down. Can you at least give him some clothes and put him in a cell?" she asked.

Hammond stared at her for a few minutes, and then nodded. "I'll see what I can do," he promised.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack paced the confines of the cell, restlessly looking for a way out. 'I see one thing is universally constant,' Jolinar said.

'What's that?' Jack asked, more to kill time than any real desire to know anything. Over the past couple of weeks, he and Jolinar had reached an understanding of a sort. The snake stayed out of his personal memories and Jack tried to do the same. He couldn't say that he was too fond of the creature. The damn thing had entered his body very much without his consent; however, after they'd reached their agreement, Jolinar had stuck to his word.

'Prison cells are astonishingly similar no matter the planet. Some are just more, advanced that others. Personally, I have found the more technologically advanced a cell is, the easier it is to escape from.'

'So, what, you got a way out of here?' Jack asked.

'Conversely, the more primitive the race is, the sturdier their cells seem to be,' Jolinar said drolly.

'No one invited you here,' Jack shot back, reignighting a long standing argument. 'In fact, I distinctly recall asking—telling you to leave a dozen times.'

'Eighteen actually,' Jolinar corrected. 'And I promised you that I will. As soon as I can return to my people and relay my intelligence to them.'

'They're not going to let you—us go,' Jack said, sighing as he ran his fingers through his hair. Jolinar had agreed to leave him in physical control, which pretty much confirmed to Jack precisely how hard the snake had worked to fix the gunshot wound. The snake was sick, it wouldn't go into details, but Jack knew that it was hiding something from him. Not information, but something else. It was like Carter when she took Cassie down into the bunker, not wanting to let him know how she really felt.

'They will have to.'

'You don't understand,' Jack said. 'We're not just dealing with the SGC here. Pretty soon the NID will get involved.'

'NID?' Jack closed his eyes, feeding the symbiote his memories of Maybourne and his cronies.

He felt the snake's mood change from one of confidence to alarm. 'Why?'

'Because we're afraid of what we don't understand,' Jack said. 'This is why it was a bad idea to come back here.'

'Why did you not tell me this earlier?'

'Why won't you tell me why you were so desperate on Nasyia?' Jack asked.

'It was a random attack.'

'Please. The goa'uld hadn't attacked Nasyia for years. Why now?'

'It does not matter,' Jolinar dismissed, determined to keep his secrets.

The door opened and Jack looked up, watching as Doctor Frasier walked into the room, closing the door behind her. "In the mood for a house call, Doc?" A chill raced down his spine and Jack stared as the small woman strode towards him, her face cold and set.

'No.' Jolinar's fear raced through Jack's brain and his heart started to race.

'What's going on?'

'I am sorry,' Jolinar apologized. 'I should have considered the possibility of his survival.'

Jolinar surged to control, backing Jack away from the bars, his retreat hopelessly short. 'What the hell are you going on about?' Jack demanded.

Frasier stretched out her hand and wrapped her fingers around the cell door, yanking it open. Her eyes glowed ominously and she raised her hand, an odd three stone ring glittering dully in her palm. "Kree shak, Jolinar. By decree of the Goa'uld System Lords you will die with dishonor by the power of the Hara'kash," she said, her voice resonating ominously.

"Doc?" Jack tried to say, his mouth not responding to his direction. "Hear this. The days of the Goa'uld System Lords are numbered. Tell them that I died with hope. My death only feeds the fire that burns strong in the Tok'ra," he heard himself say.

'Do not fight me,' Jolinar said, shoving Jack into the back of his brain. Unable to move, Jack could only watch as a beam of light emanated from the ring, piercing his skull. Pain washed over him like a burning tidal force, slamming him against a wall. He felt Jolinar scream and the creature writhed in pain, slithering under his skin.

Feeling disembodied, Jack watched Frasier move towards him, her smaller figure easily shoving his body against the wall, the ring pinning him there.

He struggled to breathe, feeling like the rope in a deadly game of tug a war. Jolinar pushed, Frasier pushed back and Jack was caught in the middle, his body bearing the brunt of the battle. With a feral growl, Frasier narrowed her eyes and the force from the ring increased ten fold. Jolinar stumbled back, faltering under the relentless onslaught. Feeling control return, Jack lunged forward, raising one arm to slam Frasier away from him. The woman screamed, falling backwards.

With his survival instincts kicking in, jack lunged on top of her, ripping the ring from her fingers. He crammed it onto his own hand, not even feeling as it tore the flesh from his fingers. Ignoring the agony crawling through his brain, he concentrated, activating the device. He tried to be careful, tried to spare the doctor, but he knew that he was hurting her too. He had no choice, he had to stop her, had to free her.

The woman screamed, her hands clawing at Jack's arms, struggling to free herself. Jack felt his strength waning, draining slowly away. He needed to stop, to save himself. But he pressed on, determined to kill the Ashrak, determined to free the doctor, determined that she'd never face the prospect of perpetual imprisonment.

Blackness swirled around him, pulling, taunting, and dragging him down. He fought the inexorable force for a few more precious seconds before it claimed him, tugging him beneath the surface, keeping him down, pulling him under, and imprisoning him in impenetrable blackness.

XXXXXXXXXX

Doctor Warner checked the chart, pulling a pen from his pocket to make notes. "Doctor?" He looked over, his back stiffening at the sight of General Hammond.

"Sir?"

"At ease," the man said. "How are they?" he asked.

"They're both stable, sir," Warner reported. "Doctor Frasier's symbiote is dead; it appears that the ring device is capable of killing the symbiote while doing minimal damage to the host. Her MRI shows some irritation of the brain matter; however it's nothing more serious than your average concussion."

"And Colonel O'Neill?"

"Much the same, sir. However, his damage is a bit more severe. Apparently, when Doctor Frasier attacked him – I mean the goa'uld in Doctor Frasier," he corrected. "It was attempting to damage both host and symbiote."

"And both symbiotes are dead?"

"Yes, sir," Warner answered. "We thought about attempting to remove them, however given how the symbiote wraps itself around a host's brain stem, we think it will be best to let their bodies absorb them."

"Will that be harmful to them?" Hammond asked.

"We don't think so, sir," Warner answered. "In truth, General, we're sort of making this up as we go along. Given the trauma both of them have suffered, we're thinking it may be best if our treatments are as minimally invasive as possible," he said. "Should there be any sign of infection, I know a very good neurosurgeon we can call in."

Hammond nodded. "Good. Keep me informed."

The general left the room and Warner turned back to his patients, moving so that he could see around the curtain dividing his two patients. Both of his patients were unconscious, a state they had been in since being brought into the infirmary. In one way, he wished they'd wake up so that he could ascertain that both of them had no more injuries than he'd determined. But another part of him honestly wished they'd remain asleep for a while. Because he knew that their physical injuries was probably the least of their concerns.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack sighed and dropped his gameboy onto his lap. Bored. He was bored, bored, bored, bored. Voices drifted past the curtain and he looked up, alternately hoping for and dreading company.

Visitors would do a lot to alleviate the boredom. Then again, visitors weren't much fun when they just stood there, shifting their weight from foot to foot, about as uncomfortable as a priest at an orgy.

"Hungry?" Daniel asked, poking his head around the curtain.

"Starved," Jack said, pushing himself up in the bed. He didn't see why he was still in the infirmary. Yes, he'd been shot. And yes, Fraiser had tried her best to fry his brain, and yes, he'd been possessed by a goa'uld. But that was last week. The gunshot wound was nothing more than a red bump on his chest. The headaches were down to manageable proportions and the goa'uld…he didn't want to think about that. It was gone. That's what mattered.

"I just hit Subway. I didn't know if you'd be awake and thought a cold sandwich would keep and—"

"It's fine," Jack interrupted, reaching for the bag. "Just tell me you got chips too."

"I even got cookies," Daniel said, pulling up a stool.

Jack unwrapped one of the sub sandwiches, hungrily biting into the fresh bread filled with meat and cheese. "This hits the spot," he said, mumbling around a mouthful of sandwich.

"I figured you'd be sick of commissary surprise," Daniel said, eating his sandwich just a bit slower. "How are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Jack said quickly. Daniel raised his eye brows and Jack realized that he'd spoken too quickly. "Daniel, don't."

Daniel shrugged. "Ok. But you know, Hammond's not gonna let you back to work until you talk to someone," he warned.

"How's Frasier doing?" Jack asked, deliberately changing the subject.

Daniel sighed and set down his sandwich. "She's aah, ok," he said.

"Ok?"

"It's gonna take time," Daniel said. "It aah…It really messed her up, Jack," he said. "She won't eat, she won't sleep." He sighed and leaned back, abandoning his sub. "I don't know what to do for her."

Jack set down his sandwich, his appetite fading. He didn't have any easy answers for his friend. Jack couldn't say that his time with Jolinar had been fun, because it was anything but. However, he knew that while, eventually, he and Jolinar had reached a sort of compromise, Fraiser hadn't had that luxury. The Ashrak had possessed her, taking over her body and using her for over a week while none of them had any idea.

"She'll pull through," he said. "She's like Carter. Both of them are a hell of a lot stronger than you think they are." Daniel's expression changed and the hair on the back of Jack's neck stood up. "Daniel, what's wrong? Where is Carter anyway?"

"Jack, Sam's in the hospital."

"What? What happened?"

"Right before, it happened, they ran some tests, trying to figure out what was wrong with her leg. Nothing seems to be working on the infection."

"Nothing?"

"Janet was trying something new but now that she…" Daniel trailed off, running his fingers through his hair. "They're going to amputate her leg tomorrow," he said, his voice catching.

"Daniel? What the hell do you mean amputate?" Jack asked. "She just twisted her ankle."

"The surgeon is afraid the longer he waits the more bone Sam will lose. He's hoping if he…that he might be able to save the knee. If they wait too much longer, she might lose it all the way up to her hip."

Jack sank back against the pillows, his sandwich sitting like a stone in his stomach. She was going to lose her leg? That wasn't fair, it just…she'd lose more than her leg, and she'd lose her career as well. "Look, there's gotta be something we can do," he said. "Surely some of those things we've brought back—"

"They've tried them Jack," Daniel interrupted. "There's nothing else they can do."

Nothing else they can do. Five little words that were a death knell for his friend. Nothing else THEY can do. "Daniel, what'd they do with the stuff I had?"

"Jack?"

"When they caught me, what'd they do with the stuff I had?" Jack repeated, sitting up in the bed.

"I don't know—"

"Find out," he ordered, pushing back the blanket covering his legs.

"Jack, you're not supposed to be—"

"Damnit, Daniel. We don't have time for this. Get to Hammond, get the stuff I had with me and then meet me in the locker room." Jack stood up, reaching for the edge of the bed to steady himself as the world swayed slightly. "Go!" Jack ordered.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Daniel muttered, getting to his feet and hurrying from the room, hopefully doing Jack's bidding.

Jack watched him go and took a deep breath. "So do I," he said softly, reaching for his robe. "So do I."

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling, oddly fascinated by the wavy reflections above her. The lights were off in the room, the only illumination coming in from the hall and the reflections from the rain slicked parking lot outside her room.

She should be asleep; at least that's what she knew the doctor had been hoping for when he'd given her the sedative an hour ago. 'A little something to help you relax, Captain,' he'd said, calmly injecting the syringe of what the colonel would call happy juice into her IV.

But she didn't want to relax. She couldn't. Not when she was just a few hours away from them wheeling her down the hall and into the operating room where they'd grab a scalpel and saw and start hacking her up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she let them fall, running down her temples to wet her hair. It was going to happen. They were out of excuses, out of ideas, out of time.

According to the doctor, she was showing the first symptoms of septicemia, a sure sign that her body was losing the fight and that the infection was winning.

Her leg or her life, he'd said, his blunt manner as heartbreaking as it was reassuring. At least he was honest.

Feeling distinctly lightheaded from the drugs and the dinner she hadn't eaten, she looked down at her feet, keenly aware that this would be one of the last times she would ever do so.

It was all a waste. The past two years. Her marriage to Jonas. Pete's support. General Hammond's favors…all of it were a waste.

_The gunshot echoed off the plain white walls and she stared, watching as he fell, slumping to the worn yellow carpet. His eyes were open, staring sightlessly up at the stained ceiling. His shirt slowly turned red, blood soaking it and painting the thin cotton fabric a garish scarlet._

_He was dead. The realization sank into her, striking her with all the force of the bullet she'd just sent into Jonas' chest. Dead. He was dead. And she'd killed him. Oh god, she…she'd killed him. She'd just killed her husband. They'd come get her. Jonas had friends. Lots of friends. They'd be mad and they'd come get her and lock her up and…Her heart started to pound and her breath rasped in her throat. She couldn't…no, they'd never understand. They'd lock her up and cram her in a tiny little hole and forget she even existed._

_A mess. She'd made a mess of everything. It was wrong. All wrong. Everything was wrong. She was wrong. She…she looked down at the gun in her hand, the barrel still warm. No loose ends. They couldn't lock her away if she wasn't…it would be so easy. Nice and neat. No failure. No one could be mad at her; no one could be disappointed in her. It'd be over. All over. No more yelling, no more screaming No more manipulating. No more failure._

_"Hey, are you done with that?" She slowly turned, frowning at the sight of a man standing in the doorway, one hand outstretched, the other clutching a pistol. "Mine's aah, not working so good right now. Mind if I borrow yours?"_

_"What—"_

_"My name's Pete, what's yours?" he asked, slowly stepping forward. "Did he do that to you?" _

_Self-consciously, her left hand drifted up to her face, trailing over the swollen bruise on her cheekbone. Jonas had been mad at her, upset at what she'd told him. She knew that he'd be angry, knew that he hadn't wanted to hear what she'd had to say. _

_He stood in front of her and slowly reached down, taking the gun from her hand. He shoved it into his pocket and holstered his own gun. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gently pushed her down to sit on the sofa. "Is there anyone you want me to call?" he asked, kneeling in front of her_

_Staring at Jonas' body, she simply shook her head._

A shadowy figure stepped into her room and Sam looked up, blinking to clear her vision. He moved like a specter, with silent, lithe grace. She should be alarmed. She should be scared. She should be calling for help.

Instead, she simply stared, watching as he moved towards her bed. He pulled back the covers, baring her bandaged leg. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some round device. He held it over her leg and she gasped as it snapped to life, warm yellow light beaming out to bathe her leg. He frowned, closing his eyes as his face contorted with concentration. A shaft of pain shot through her leg and she winced, her hands digging into the covers.

His other hand shot out, grasping her leg below the knee to keep her from pulling it away as the light intensified. Her leg felt warm, almost too warm, and then the pain stopped, replaced by an almost pleasurable sense of relief.

It seemed like forever that he stood there, holding the strange light over her leg until it finally snapped off. He slumped, both hands reaching for her bed, propping himself up. Her eyesight stunted by the sudden re-descent into near darkness, she could barely see his outline as he pushed away from her bed, walking slowly out of the room.

Sam tried to push herself up and reach for the lamp, but her arms refused to support her. She slumped back onto the pillows, exhaustion wrapping around her like a cloying force. She fought to keep her eyes open but failed as the drugs finally succeeded and she fell asleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel nervously looked over his shoulder, not quite sure why the infirmary was so deserted, but grateful that there were no witnesses. "Go put that thing away," Jack ordered, slumping down on

the bed.

"Jack?" His friend looked drained, his face pale and drawn. It reminded Daniel of how he'd looked those first few weeks after they'd been brought back from Antarctica. "You don't look so good."

"I'll be fine," he dismissed. "You need to go put that thing away." Jack nodded towards the odd circular device Daniel had retrieved from the items confiscated from Jack when he'd been caught.

"What exactly is it?" Daniel asked, holding it up to study it closer. It was round, about the size of his palm. The base was a round reddish colored stone encased in a gold setting that had two spirals, creating a soft of handle.

"That's what you were trying to find out," Jack said.

"I was?"

"You checked it out, trying to decipher some of the writing on the back."

"Did I have any luck?" Daniel asked pointedly.

"No," Jack declared. "You have no idea what it is, or how it works." Jack stared at him, daring Daniel to correct his words. Daniel thought about correcting him, pushing to find out what in the hell had happened. Thought about it, then dismissed the idea.

"Ok," he agreed. "Do you think I'll ever figure out what this thing is? I mean, it sorta looks like a petrified Danish but—"

"One of these days you'll figure it out," Jack said, slipping off his shoes and crawling under the covers, apparently going to sleep in the same sweats he'd worn outside.

"At least I have something to look forward to," Daniel quipped.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack watched Daniel leave the room, unconsciously relaxing when he was left alone. He laid back on the bed, idly holding up his hand. He could still feel it, the power thrumming through his veins. He could understand now. Understand the appeal. He remembered what it felt like, remembered having the ribbon device wrapped around his hand. He could feel the power, remember killing with a thought.

It was intoxicating, invigorating.

This was why they conquered, why they ruled. This fabulous feeling of power.

He could do it again. It would be so easy. It wouldn't quite be as good as it was before, the naqahdah in his blood did allow him to use both the ribbon weapon and the healing device, but without a living symbiote within him, his power and control would be negligible.

This was what they found so addictive, so alluring. This was how they mimicked gods. It wasn't with costumes or arrogance. It wasn't because the natives were stupid or blind. It was because the goa'uld literally held the power of life and death in the palms of their hands.

It'd felt good when he'd healed Carter. He'd felt powerful, masterful, special. It'd been as rush, as good as the first time he'd jumped from a plane, when he'd found out Sara was pregnant. He wanted nothing more than to feel that way again. And he wanted it so badly that he'd had to force himself to hand the device over to Daniel and he'd had to stop himself from grabbing it back and keeping it.

Jack held up his hand, studying it in the dim light of the infirmary. He had that power within him. It was a part of him now. Jolinar had done that to him, left his blood mingled with Jack's own. It was a change that was never going to wear off or go away.

So it was a change that no one else could know about. Jack wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what would happen if the NID found out about the changes. It'd be like the Tollan all over again. They'd take him away and lock him up…for his own protection of course.

They knew about his new bloody type, there was no way too hide that. They just couldn't know everything about the new and improved Jack O'Neill. He had another secret now. But that was ok. If it was one thing Jack O'Neill knew, it was how to keep a secret.

XXXXXXXXXX

Pete pulled the car up outside the door, reaching over to pop the trunk. He put it into park and got out, leaving the engine running. "I should have rented a truck," he said, raising his eyebrows at the small cart of flowers and balloons. Sam laughed and pushed herself up out of the wheelchair, ignoring the nurse's cautioning hand. "I could always pop them, make sure there's plenty of room," he threatened.

"Pop my balloons, Shanahan, and you're going to be needing her fine services," she threatened, climbing into the passenger seat.

Pete loaded the last of the flowers into the back seat and got back into the car. He glanced over at her. She was a little pale, a little thin but she was healthy and happy and all in one piece. "Ya know, I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so," he said.

"What?" she frowned at him.

"I told you your leg would be fine," he said. "I knew you'd beat it." She smiled slightly, pulling her left leg up and absently rubbing it. She got an odd, far away look on her face, a look that spooked him. "Sam? You ok?"

"Yeah," she said slowly. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

Fin


	4. Chapter 4

Evolution: Beginnings and Endings

By

Denise

Jack rolled over, his hand instinctively stretching out only to encounter cool, empty sheets. He sighed, rolling to his back and pulling his arm up to lay across his face. From downstairs he could hear the kids talking, arguing over who got the last of the breakfast cereal. Sara's voice occasionally carried up the stairs, corralling the kids.

They sounded so…so normal. Laughing and bickering, chattering and teasing. They didn't sound like a family that was hanging on by a thread. But they were. And it was his entire fault.

He still had nightmares, lots of nightmare. Memories kept flitting into his brain, memories that he knew weren't his. At first, it had just been feeling. An odd image here and there, but it had gotten worse after her used the healing device on Carter. It was as if in tapping into that inner strength, he'd opened the floodgates on a whole wealth of emotions and feelings.

That was one reason he was sleeping in the spare room. Insomnia and nightmares were bad enough on your own; they were even worse when your wife has a front row seat, asking questions he didn't want to answer.

And there was another reason, one that probably ate at his gut more than Jolinar's annoying and massively inconvenient memories. He hadn't made love to his wife in over two months. It wasn't for a lack of interest, at least not on his part. The few times he'd tried, Sara had said no. Well, not specifically and not at first. The first time she was tired, then tired again, then not in the mood. Then she started to stay up late, claiming insomnia. Jack had believed her…right until he found her sleeping on the couch.

He may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but he could sure as hell take a hint. Which was why he'd become intimately acquainted with the bed in the guest room.

Groaning, he pushed back the covers, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. It took him only a few minutes to get dressed and clean up; he'd slowly but surely moved more of his clothes into the guest room as well. He made his way downstairs, pasting a smile on his face before he walked into the kitchen. "Charlie, eat your oatmeal," he said, ruffling his son's hair.

"I'm eating froot loops," he corrected.

"I don't like oatmeal," Cassie chimed in.

"It's good for you," Sara said, taking her seat around the table. She looked up at Jack and motioned towards the counter.

"Do you want me to make you some toast?"

"That's ok," he said, grabbing a bowl. He poured a generous helping of froot loops into the bowl and splashed some milk over it, claiming the fourth chair. He ate, listening to the kids continuing to bicker, debating their chores. Jack ate, watching Sara out of the corner of his eyes. She slowly ate, avoiding him with her eyes.

"Dad, can we go to the movies tonight?" Charlie asked.

"Huh?"

"I wanna go to the movies tonight, but mom says you'd have to take us," he said.

"I have a PTA meeting," Sara said, her tone slightly defensive.

"That's fine," Jack said. "We'll go out, grab a burger and go to the movies," he said, deliberately casual. Sara sighed, getting to her feet and carrying her half full bowl to the sink. Jack got to his feet as Sara left the room. He followed her into the living room. "Sara? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she dismissed.

"Hey, I was thinking. Do you think Mike is free this weekend?" he asked impulsively, ignoring her mood. He knew if he said something, they'd fight. And he didn't want to fight.

She shook her head, frowning. "What?"

"What if Mike watches the kids? We could go to Denver, maybe take in a show, have a little time for ourselves?" he suggested.

"Jack—"

"Sara," he moved close to her, reaching out to take her arms. "I want to fix this," he said. "Please."

She stared at him, looking him in the eyes for the first time in weeks. The phone rang and she jumped. Jack glanced over his shoulder, then back at her. The phone rang again and he heard Charlie answer it. "Sara?"

"Dad!" Charlie called. "It's work."

Jack ignored him, his grip tightening on Sara's arms. "Sara?"

"Dad!"

She closed her eyes, pulling out of his grip. "Answer the phone, Jack," she said, turning on her heel and leaving the room.

Jack looked after her, taking a step to follow. "Dad, they say it's important," Charlie insisted.

He took one last look at the empty hall then spun on his heel, taking the phone out of Charlie's hand. "O'Neill," he barked, meeting his son's gaze. "Yeah, ok," he said after listening for a few seconds. He hung up the phone.

"We're not going to the movies are we?" Cassie asked.

"I don't think so," Charlie said.

"I gotta go to work," Jack told them.

"We'll go to the movies when you get home," Charlie said.

"We will," Jack agreed, bending over to give each of them a hug. Looking one last time down the hall, Jack bypassed saying goodbye to Sara. He grabbed his keys and hurried out the door.

XXXXXXXXXX

"What's going on?" Jack asked, striding into the control room. Carter was seated in the control room and she looked up as he walked in. He was glad to see her back at work. Between his time off because of Jolinar, and her taking time off to deal with her father's estate, the whole team had spent more time off duty than on duty the past couple of months. No to mention the whole mess with Carter getting her brain sucked by little gray aliens, and Daniel dealing with the death of Shau'ri.

Graham Simmons sat beside her and General Hammond stood behind the pair.

"Sir, about an hour ago, we got an unscheduled incoming wormhole. We received an IDC code but no one came through. We redialed the gate to P3W451. Apparently, a black hole has formed in that system," Carter said.

"That doesn't sound good," Jack said.

"It's not," Hammond confirmed.

"Who was there?" Jack asked.

"SG-10, sir," Simmons reported.

"Rescue?" Jack moved closer, stepping up and laying his hands on the back of Sam's chair.

"Not a black hole, sir," she said softly. "Anyone who goes through the gate won't make it back."

"We have bigger things to think about," Hammond said seriously.

"Sir?"

"It's the black hole, Colonel," Carter said. "Or more specifically, the black hole's gravity. The gate won't disengage."

"The thirty-eight minute window?"

"We passed that five minutes ago."

"Then shut it down," Jack said.

She shook her head. "We've tried, sir," she said. "It didn't work."

"The gate capacitors should have discharged by now," Simmons said.

"What if we cut the power at the source?" Jack asked.

"Sir?"

"That might work," Sam said. "General, if we cut off the gate's power source, that might be enough to make it shut down," she briefed.

"Do it," the man ordered. "Captain, I need to go report this to Washington," the general continued.

"The phones don't work, sir," Simmons said.

"What?"

"I had to go up to level sixteen to find a phone that worked to call Colonel O'Neill," he said. "The nearest secure phone is up at NORAD."

Hammond shrugged. "Then I guess I'm going to the surface," he said. "Carry on."

Jack watched him go, and then turned to Carter. "Sir?"

"The breakers?" he asked. "I'm guessing that's where I need to go to cut the power."

"Yes, sir. Sorry." She colored a bit, looking over his shoulder. "Sergeant Siler knows where they are. You'll probably want him to help you."

Jack nodded. "Siler." He motioned for the man to follow him and left the room. The two of them quickly made their way up to level 17, Jack using his card to gain access to the secure portion of the area. The breakers and main power units were secured behind a large gate.

"Carter, we reached the main power vault," Jack said, keying the walkie talkie he'd grabbed from the control room.

"We'll isolate the capacitors first," she said. "Colonel, pull breakers 90 through 94 on panel 6."

"Roger that. Stand by." Jack nodded to Siler and the man stepped over, wrapping his glove shrouded hands around the huge breakers. They flipped the switches, both cringing a bit as sparks started to fly. "All right. We're kind of shorting out up here," he said, stepping back to keep from getting burned.

"Colonel, pull the main breakers," Carter said.

Jack nodded, knowing that was what she was going to say. Siler grasped one of the large levers and nodded.

"Sir, we need to do this simultaneously."

"Gotcha. On one…3…2…1." Jack pulled down the breaker, having to use all his body weight to accomplish the goal.

Sparks rained down on them again and Jack cringed, ducking as electricity arced out from the panel, striking Siler.

"Colonel, are you all right?" Carter called.

"Siler's hurt. Did it work?" Jack asked, glad to discover that the sergeant was simply injured and was still conscious.

"Negative, sir. Even with the power cut, it still won't shut down," she said.

"How's that possible?" Jack demanded.

"It must be deriving its energy from the black hole itself. I'm going to send medical up to you."

"Yeah, that'd be nice," Jack said leaning back on his heels as the emergency lights flickered on. "Hang on, Siler," he said.

"Yes, sir," the man muttered, closing his eyes. "Bet you wish you'd never answered that phone, huh sir?"

"What? Oh, you have no idea, sergeant," Jack said, sighing. The medics hurried into the room and he got to his feet, getting out of their way. He waited until they stabilized and put Siler on a gurney, and then followed them out of the vault, securing the door behind them.

Ok, so the easy solution hadn't worked. Now it was time to get creative.

XXXXXXXXXX

Frank Cromwell got out of the truck, breathing deep as he glanced around. Great. Just great. First time this year he'd managed to get box seats to a Rockies game and something just had to go wrong.

"Sergeant, how long have you been out of contact with this facility?" he demanded, catching sight of a young man who appeared to be stationed here.

"Coming on four hours ago, sir. But it was 'funky' for a while before that," he said.

"Is that proper military terminology? What exactly does 'funky' mean, Sergeant?" Frank demanded.

"Everyone was talking real slow, like when the batteries die on your Walkman," the man said.

"Uh huh." Frank shook his head. These kids got younger each year. "Will that shaft take me directly to Sub-level 28?"

"Yes, sir, but I don't know how you're going to get down there."

"Not to worry, we brought our own transportation. Gentlemen, hook 'em up," he ordered his men. He moved over to join them at the head of the shaft. Wilkins threw back the cover and Frank looked down, shining his light into the hole.

"Clear."

Frank hooked up his harness and perched himself on the edge of the opening. "Once you get down, our objective is to get control of this facility. If even half of what I've heard is true, there's some weird crap going on down there. Don't believe what you see and trust even less." He looked up, catching the eyes of his second. "Potter, you don't hear from us in an hour, you're not going to. You know what to do."

"Yes, sir."

Frank checked his rigging one last time. "Ok men; let's go bail out the geeks."

He slid off the edge and fell into space, his apprehension warring with his anticipation. Finally, finally he was going to know Jack's little secret.

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel hurried down the hall, walking fast to keep up with Janet. "Did they say what was wrong?" he asked.

"They rarely do," she said, glancing over at him. The pair of them had been in his office, having a quiet mid morning cup of coffee when the alarms had sounded and the lights went off.

"What do you think is going on?"

"I don't know," she said, her having a slightly hopeless ring to it. She was stressed; he could hear it in her voice. She'd been stressed a lot lately, ever since her possession by the Ashrak. The whole experience had hit her hard and there were moments when he'd thought that she wouldn't recover. She'd been withdrawn and upset; clearly shocked by everything she'd been through.

Piecing things together, they found out that the Ashrak had jumped into her from one of the injured Nasyians in the hospital for treatment. She vaguely remembered the man reaching up with a bandaged hand to pull her down. The Ashrak forced itself into her, hiding out until it was able to accomplish its mission, to kill Jolinar.

"It'll be ok," he reassured her. "Jack probably just stubbed his toe." Daniel immediately regretted his words when she paused, an expression of unease crossing her face. "Janet—" He reached out his hand to comfort her, turning his head as a bright light cut through the dimness of the hall. They both watched as a torch cut through the evacuation hatch, brilliant white sparks skittering across the floor.

"What the hell?"

The door fell in, landing with an echoing clang. Several dark clad figures clambered into the hall, their guns at the ready. "Freeze! Up against the wall! Move! Move! Tags!" he screamed. Shocked, Daniel hurried to comply, doing his best to keep himself between the man and Janet. Janet dug under her shirt, pulling out her dog tags while Daniel could do little more than stand there, his hands awkwardly pressed against the wall. "Doctor Fraiser," the man read.

"Cromwell?" Daniel asked, finally recognizing the voice. "What's going on?"

"Doctor Jackson?" A hand on his shoulder spun him around.

"Yeah. Who the hell are you? Put that down!" Janet said, batting at the barrel of Cromwell's gun.

"Colonel Frank Cromwell, Air Force Special Operations," he introduced. "Five hours ago, all contact was lost with this facility. I am here to find out why."

"Colonel, I have been called to a medical emergency," Janet said.

"My superiors have reason to believe the SGC had been overrun by alien hostiles."

"Do we look alien?" Daniel asked. "Or hostile?"

"All I can say is that they've been misinformed," Janet said, annoyance rife in her voice.

"Hell, from what I've read about what goes on in this place, Doctor Fraiser, Doctor Jackson--hell, you could be one of them for all I know." He motioned his men forward. "You're staying with us."

"Colonel, I said I was going to a medical emergency," Janet insisted.

"And I said you're coming with us. Unless of course, you want me to hog tie you and send your ass upstairs." Daniel looked to Janet and shrugged, not liking the idea but liking being separated even less. "Move out! Take the six!" Cromwell ordered, his strident tones cutting through the hall. Daniel grabbed Janet's hand, determined that they were not going to be separated as they fell into step with the rest of Cromwell's men, letting the group guide them down the hall.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack followed the medics as they carried Siler into the infirmary, surprised to find Carter and Teal'c already there. He hadn't heard that anyone else was injured. Of course, given the supreme sparkage he and Siler had experienced, it was probably a minor miracle that there weren't more casualties.

"Siler took a pretty good hit. How're you doing, Teal'c?"

"I suffered simple electrical burns, O'Neill. Nothing more," his Jaffa friend said.

"He'll be out of commission for a few days," Carter said, offering Jack a more realistic prognosis. A low rumble echoed through the room. Jack watched as a couple of the bottles on the shelf rattled, reminding him vaguely of the last time he'd been in an earthquake. He looked to Carter, seeking an explanation. For some reason, he didn't think it was an earthquake.

"Carter?"

"Gravity waves. Colonel, I assumed that the wormhole itself would insulate us from the black hole's gravitational field, but it seems that our space-time has begun to warp just like on P3W-451," she rambled.

"Will you stop that?" he said, suddenly frustrated with her apparent enthusiasm with their impending deaths.

"We're in trouble, sir," she said.

"Thank you. Think of something," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," Carter muttered.

Jack stalked out into the hall, his goal the control room. He never should have answered the phone this morning. Should have Charlie just take a message. They could have roped Mike into babysitting, jumped in the car with Sara, found a nice hotel and had some quality time together.

Instead he was here; roped into fixing a situation he didn't quite understand. A group of people marched around the corner and Jack stopped, raising he eyebrows at the sight of a group of troops invading the base. "Colonel!" Frasier said, pushing out from the middle of the group.

"Clear!"

"Cromwell? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Bailing your ass out, Jack," Cromwell said, motioning for his men to stand down.

"Is that right?" Jack asked sarcastically. "Go on," Jack said to Janet and Daniel.

"It's been five hours, Jack. Got everybody pretty worried upstairs. Where's the general?" Cromwell asked.

Jack frowned. "What's the five hours?"

"That's how long this facility's been out of contact with the outside world. Pentagon suspected alien hostiles."

"And they sent you?" Jack asked, pushing past Cromwell. His friend fell into step beside him, the troops trailing. Jack summoned the elevator, pointedly glaring as the car arrived and all of Cromwell's men tried to squeeze in. "Take the stairs, they're good for you," he quipped, pushing the button to close the door.

"You're such a prick," Cromwell muttered.

"Takes one to know one." The doors opened and Jack stepped out, leading Cromwell to the control room.

Cromwell whistled, stopping dead in his tracks to stare out the window. "So, this is the Stargate. What's the problem?"

"We gated to a planet that's being sucked up by a black hole. Very bad. Very dangerous," Jack said.

"And why is that?"

"Things tend to get sucked in."

The stairs clanged and Carter hurried into the room. Evidentially, she had taken the stairs. "Took the liberty of closing the iris, sir," she reported.

Jack nodded. "Captain Carter, Cromwell's come to rescue us."

"Sir."

"Pentagon was concerned you were under alien attack when we lost contact."

"How long ago was that?" she asked.

"A little over five hours ago. Why?"

Carter frowned. "My watch reads 1330 hours. What does yours say?"

"Running slow, Captain. It's almost 1900."

"Damn it. Colonel, I have to get off this level," she said, turning to Jack.

"Captain Carter." Simmons voice filtered through the speakers. Jack turned to see the man standing on the ramp, holding out some measuring device.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"The field is expanding. I'm reading over 7 gees at the iris," he reported.

"Keep your distance, Lieutenant. Sir, for some reason, the warping of our space-time seems to be in advance of the gravitational field rather than as a result of it. It's probably a lensing effect generated by the Stargate itself, but I can't be sure," she rambled.

Jack nodded, trying to follow along. "Don't even pretend you understood that," Cromwell said.

"The point is, sirs that time is passing more slowly down here than it is outside the mountain," Carter said.

"Time is time," Cromwell dismissed.

"No, sir, not according to relativity," Carter corrected. "Now with the intense gravity field of something like a black hole, time actually slows down."

"We're not in a black hole."

"Not yet," Jack said.

"But we are connected to its gravitational field through the Stargate and it's expanding in this direction like a bubble slowly expanding outward. That's why I have to leave, sir. I have to contact the Pentagon and try to find a solution before the gravity field extends beyond the gate room."

"I just came from there myself, Captain," Hammond said, striding into the room. "Colonel Cromwell, I presume."

"General Hammond." Cromwell snapped to attention, saluting the general. Hammond returned the salute.

"You just came back from Washington, sir?" Jack asked, slightly confused.

"There and back again. After someone upstairs managed to explain what was going on to me, we called an all-night session with the President and the Joint Chiefs. I've been gone nearly eighteen hours."

Jack frowned. "I thought you were on the phone."

"It means the time dilation is getting worse as the field expands," Carter said.

"That's the consensus. We set up a command post directly above, right on top of the mountain to monitor the expansion."

"I have to get up there," Carter insisted.

"The experts we consulted believe we're going to have to commence an auto destruct sequence to destroy the Stargate itself," Hammond said.

"Sweet," Jack groaned.

"They assure me that the gravity field now present around the gate will help contain the blast within the mountain and pose no threat to the civilian population."

"With all due respect, sir, I don't think so," Carter argued.

"If we don't try, we lose the planet right through that." Hammond gestured through the window at the stargate.

"We may well succeed in destroying the base, sir, but leave the gate and the wormhole intact. What happens to the planet then?" Carter asked, not giving up on her theory. He had to hand it to her; she could be like a dog with a bone when she set her mind to it.

"Orders have been given at the highest levels, Captain," Hammond said. "It is our duty to carry out those orders."

"But, sir—"

"The decision's been made, Captain. Don't forget those people up there've been working on this a lot longer than you have. It's what they came up with."

"Yes, sir," Carter said, backing down.

"I'm ordering the complete evacuation of the SGC, effective as of right now. I'll need two volunteers to stay behind in order to give our personnel a head start."

"I'll stay, sir," Jack said.

"Me too, sir," Cromwell volunteered.

"Anyone else?"

"Looks like you're stuck with me, Jack."

"Done! It takes two officers to initiate the countdown," Hammond said. Jack sighed, leaning back as the general moved forward, grabbing the PA microphone. "Attention! This is General Hammond. All personnel are ordered to evacuate this facility immediately! Repeat all personnel report to the main level immediately! That is all!" He gave the order to abandon the base.

Carter looked at Jack, silently asking for his support. He simply shook his head. "You heard the general, go."

"Wait five minutes, and then start the countdown. Good luck," Hammond said.

"Thank you, sir," Cromwell replied.

"Make sure you give yourselves enough time to get out, sir," Sam said.

"Time, right," Jack said.

Hammond and Carter left and Jack sank down into one of the chairs, doing his best to ignore Frank.

"Who's this?" Frank tapped on the screen.

"Henry Boyd. Good officer. Smart. Kinda reminds me of Carter a little. This was their first mission as a team," Jack said. "How the hell did you get this mission?"

Frank shrugged. "Volunteered."

"I thought you were smarter than that."

"The chance to bail out your ass, and finally find out your super secret job, it was worth it," he said casually, taking a seat himself.

Jack huffed, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "So, now you know. Feel better?"

Frank shrugged. "So that's your big secret."

"That's the stargate."

"And you go to other planets through that thing?"

"Upon occasion."

Frank shook his head, chuckling a bit. "You were always one who didn't know how to say no," he said. "Sara's worried sick, by the way. You shoulda been home a couple of hours ago."

"She's used to it."

"She shouldn't have to be."

"Oh, and you're home for dinner every night?" Jack shot back.

"I make it more often than you do."

Jack glared, his fist tightening in his lap. "Let's get set up," he said, pushing his anger aside. "Computer needs your authorization code before it'll accept the command. Go ahead and enter it." Frank annoyed him, always had. They were friends once, and still were in a way. The fact still remained that the main reason Frank was around and a part of their lives was because of Sara, because she'd brokered a sort of peace between them. "When the time comes, hit the 'enter' key on my mark and then run like hell," Jack instructed.

"Got it."

"Two minutes."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Put him down over there," Janet said, instructing the airman. They put the stretcher down and helped the man onto the cot. Feeling distinctly in the way, Daniel stood to the side as she fussed over the man, straightening his blankets and checking his IV.

He let her take care of Siler for a few more minutes before he stepped forward, gently grasping her arms. "He's fine, Janet," he said.

"I know." Janet sighed and smiled at him. "I just…sometimes I feel—"

"Like everyone's watching you waiting to see if you crack up?" he interrupted.

"A little," she confessed.

"Hey, I'm getting the same thing about Shau'ri. They're all walking on egg shells," he complained. "I think half of them are afraid I'm going to flip out."

"And the other half?"

"Ready to sell tickets," he quipped. She chuckled, relaxing a bit. There'd been a lot of death in their lives lately. First Shau'ri, then just a month after his return from Abydos, Sam received word that her father was in the hospital with terminal cancer.

She rushed to his bedside, only to return a few days later, distinctly subdued and equally closed lipped. It had taken him and Teal'c a whole Saturday night and a fifth of tequila to find out all the details. Chief among them was the fact that instead of greeting his daughter with open arms, she'd been met with a terse 'I'm fine' and the very strong suggestion that she go home and leave him alone.

Sam had acceded to his wishes, only to return a couple of weeks later, General Hammond at her side – courtesy of a certain colonel off-handedly commenting on the state of things in the Carter family. Hammond had been able to breach his old friend's defenses and get General Carter to allow Sam to stay.

She still refused to talk about all that happened during the month she took off, but Daniel felt they'd reached some sort of accord. In the weeks since his funeral, Daniel had noticed a sort of peace in his friend's eyes.

Daniel looked around, noting that Siler was still Janet's only patient, and that she now had three nurses to help her. "I think I'm going to go see if I can do anything to help," he said. "You gonna be ok?" he asked, lowering his voice and leaning close to her.

He and Janet had been spending a lot of time together in the past few months. At first, he'd done it to satisfy his curiosity. What Janet had survived was a lot like what had happened to Shau'ri, and while he couldn't help his wife, he could help Janet.

"I'll be fine," she insisted. "Go on. There's not much you can do here, unless of course, Sergeant Siler needs a bed pan," she quipped, her eyes sparkling evilly.

XXXXXXXXXX

"One minute," Jack said, glancing at the too slow second hand on his watch.

"Maybe the last one. You know Jack, we used to be close, real close," Cromwell said, moving to lean against the console.

"Yep."

"I was sick to my stomach when I found out you were still alive. I wanted to go back for you," Cromwell said, dredging up the one topic Jack refused to talk about. Over the years, the two of them had reached a compromise. Jack couldn't stand Frank. Sarah, however, demanded that the man, and their friendship, continue to exist, so Jack did his best to ignore him.

"Why are you here? And don't tell me that there's a sudden shortage of special ops folks. I know for a fact that you're out of the mission rotation for at least another month."

Cromwell shrugged. "So, I was curious. Can you blame me? Besides, Sara'd kick my ass if I let something happen to you."

Jack shook his head, checking his watch again. "Let's do this," he said, getting to his feet.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs and they turned, Jack frowning at the sight of Carter. "Don't activate the auto destruct, sir. It won't work. I have another idea," she said, panting slightly.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jack demanded.

"All the self-destruct will do will collapse the mountain; it won't shut down the gate."

"So?" Cromwell shook his head.

"So, sir, if we use the auto-destruct all we're gonna do is give the black hole a little more stuff to suck into it before it…devours the whole planet," she said.

"Then, what are we doing now?" Jack asked. "Get Daniel down here to talk it into shutting down."

"Actually, Colonel, we're going to blow it up."

XXXXXXXXXX

George Hammond picked up his cup of coffee and raised it to his lips, only to toss it out in disgust as he caught sight of a fly doing a backstroke through the dark liquid. "Now I remember why the hell I got out of the field," he muttered, tossing the undrinkable coffee into the grass.

Two soldiers walked past and George watched them, taking a moment to study his surroundings. A pair of jeeps were parked at the entrance to Cheyenne Mountain, effectively blocking the road. Tents dotted the area and people milled around, some of them obviously at a loss as to what to do.

By rights, George knew that he could have sent them home or to Peterson to work, but he couldn't. If O'Neill and Cromwell succeeded, then George knew he'd need all hands to help clean up the mess. If they failed, well then it just wouldn't matter much.

It was quiet outside the mountain, relatively speaking. There was still the constant thrum of cars going up and down the nearby highway. And a regular stream of helicopters landing and taking off from Fort Carson. It was almost peaceful, camping out in the grass. Fortunately, the weather was warm, so they were relatively comfortable.

"I don't care!" A woman's strident voice carried across the clearing and George turned, squinting into the sun. Two SF's were standing in the path of a woman, a civilian if her clothing was anything to go by. "I just want some answers."

Her voice sounded familiar and George walked towards her, knowing full well that, if she knew anything about military rank, she'd know that he'd have some sort of answer.

"Ma'am, this is a classified facility and—"

"I know damn good and well it's classified," she said loudly, interrupting the sergeant. "My husband's worked here for two years and I'm willing to bet that I know more about what's going on in the basement than you do," she challenged.

As he got closer, George sighed, recognizing the woman. "Stand down, Sergeant," he ordered.

"Sir."

"General, finally," the woman exclaimed, shooting the two SF's a vicious glare.

"Mrs. O'Neill isn't it?" he asked, nodding to the two men to leave him alone with her.

"Yes, sir."

"What can I do for you?"

"I need to know where Jack is."

"Mrs. O'Neill, your current status notwithstanding, you know that I can't tell you—"

"General," she interrupted. "My husband got called to work here over a week ago. In that time, I haven't heard a single thing."

"We have a bit of a crisis right now. People are busy," he hedged.

"General." She stepped closer, glancing at the two SF's who moved just out of earshot. "Even if Jack got sent on a…trip, he would call me and let me know. I've tried calling the contact number but it's not working. I've tried calling other members of his team but there's no answer. I just want to know where my husband is," she requested, her voice low.

"Colonel O'Neill is doing something of vital importance to this facility," he reassured her, knowing that, to a family member; his words were nothing but an empty gesture.

"General, please," she said. "I know that I can't know all that's going on but—"

"Sir." One of the SF's stepped forward. "I apologize, sir, but the package has arrived."

George turned, catching sight of a truck as it rolled to a stop, Teal'c barely waiting to jump out, his long legs making short work of the distance from the cab to the back of the truck. He turned back to Sara. "Mrs. O'Neill, I need you to leave now," he said, laying one hand on her arm. "I promise you, the very instant I know something, I will call you personally," he promised.

The woman ignored him, staring wide eyed as Teal'c hefted the large bomb out of the back of the truck, apparently entrusting no one to assist him. "This is big, isn't it?" she asked softly.

"Yes, ma'am, it is," George confirmed.

She slowly nodded. "Just don't forget where I am," she said. "I have two children that want to know why their father broke his promise to take them to the movies. I want something better to tell them than 'classified'."

With that, she turned on her heel and stalked back to her car.

George allowed himself the luxury of watching her leave before he turned to Teal'c. "Is that it, son?"

"Yes, General Hammond."

George nodded. "Get it downstairs," he ordered. Teal'c nodded. "Teal'c?" He turned back. "Wish them luck for me," he requested.

Teal'c nodded again and strode towards the entrance, his dark figure quickly swallowed up by the gaping maw of Cheyenne Mountain.

XXXXXXXXXX

"The g-suits should help you withstand the higher gravity on the way down," Sam said, helping Siler rig the ropes O'Neill and Cromwell would use to place the explosives.

"What's this bomb we're delivering?" Cromwell asked.

"It's a shaped charge. We want to focus the explosive force toward the wormhole, hopefully with enough energy to cause it to jump, like what happened to us in Antarctica," she said, knowing that Cromwell wouldn't get the reference, but that O'Neill would.

"Right. Where is it?" the colonel asked, not needing any more of a briefing than she'd given him.

"They're modifying the warhead's yield to my calculations and it's being flown in from Travis."

"How long's all that going to take?"

"Well, sir, with any luck, about 5 minutes, relatively—"

"Relatively speaking?" O'Neill interrupted her. Sam nodded.

"Anytime you're ready, sirs. I don't know how much longer that iris's going to hold," Siler said, interrupting them to cut straight to the chase.

"They have to wait for the bomb," Sam said. Right on cue, Teal'c hurried into the room, the bulky bomb clasped securely in his hands.

"You got better quick," O'Neill said, frowning at the man.

"It has in fact been several days," Teal'c corrected.

"Yeah. I knew that."

"Everyone who doesn't have to be here should go topside," Sam said.

"You said it was a shaped charge?" Cromwell asked, slipping his dog tags over his head.

"It's still a bomb, sir," Sam said, taking them from him. "Even though it's shaped, the blast wave will encompass the whole room."

"Cannot the bomb be detonated by remote?" Teal'c asked.

"It has to be set a certain distance from the gate and at an exact angle. The timer can't be set until they're into position because of the variance in time dilation," Sam said, sliding the harness over her hips. She planned to stay in the control room, if for no other reason than to tell them when to detonate the bomb. Also, there was no way she could just leave them alone to carry out her plan. They were going to risk their lives on her word and she had to be here.

"Man, she is—"

"Way smarter than we are. I know," O'Neill interrupted Cromwell. He took his own dog tags off and handed them to her. The two men moved towards the ropes, quickly hooking themselves in.

Sam stood back, the harness hampering her movements. Fortunately, Teal'c stayed too, his presence a reassuring force.

Both colonels slid down the ropes, their easy motions slowing as they got closer and closer to the pull of the black hole. They were talking and the further away they got, the more their voices changed, the gravity and time dilation making their voices sound more and more distorted.

"They appear to be moving very slowly," Teal'c commented.

"Only from our perspective," Sam said absently, her eyes fixated on the two men.

"Ah, Captain." Siler's voice broke into Sam's contemplation and she turned, staring as a chair rolled across the room, pulled by the black hole's gravity. A crackling sound filled the air and Sam felt her heart jerk. She turned back, watching in amazement as the thick bullet proof glass of the control room splintered and shattered, the glittering pieces falling towards the stargate like sparkling rain.

"Colonel! Colonel, look out! Colonel!" Sam yelled, trying to warn them. She watched helplessly as the glass flew by them, some striking home, others splattering against the iris. The metal wavered and crinkled, collapsing into the stargate as if it were nothing more than tin foil. "Damn," she muttered.

"Captain Carter?"

"The gravity," she said, her body pulling against the harness. It felt like she weighed several hundred pounds. Every movement was difficult, like she was trying to walk through mud. "The iris was protecting them a bit, but with that gone, I don't know if they can climb back up."

Teal'c shifted his weight, wrapping one massive hand around Cromwell's rope. "Then we must assist them," he said.

Sam did the same, taking O'Neill's rope in her hand. As she watched, Colonel O'Neill armed the bomb, punching in an impossible twenty seconds. As soon as his hand was clear Sam pulled on the rope. "GO Teal'c!" She leaned back, trying to use all her weight to get him away from the bomb. Siler moved to her side, lending his strength to hers. Her eyes fixated on the red numbers on the bomb, watching them count down. Fast. They were going too fast. They'd never make it. She'd never get him far enough away.

Ten.

He was too close. Only a few feet away.

Nine.

There wouldn't be any flame, not really. Just a blast wave

Eight.

It'd crush him, turn his insides into jelly.

Seven.

He'd suffocate, drown in his own body.

Six.

It was all her fault. Her idea.

Five.

He'd die because of her.

Four.

What if she was wrong? What if it didn't work?

Three.

Then he'd die for nothing.

Two.

It wasn't fair. He didn't deserve to die.

One.

How could she face Cassie and tell her that she'd killed her new father?

A brilliant flash of light assaulted her eyes and she screamed, barely having time to register a force slamming into her before the world faded to black.

XXXXXXXXXX

Headlights flitted across the front window and Pete looked up, craning his neck to get a better view. The headlights pulled into the driveway and he sighed, getting to his feet.

He padded to the front door, pulling it open and walking out onto the porch. Much to his relief, he recognized the car and hurried over to it. "Sam," he said as she opened the door. "I thought you were never coming home. Are you ok?"

"I think so," she said softly, releasing her seat belt. He stepped back as she slowly got out of the car. Spying her bag in the back seat, he reached in and grabbed it, then locked the door as she made her way up the short walk.

He followed her as she walked into the living room and plopped onto the couch. Her head lolled back against the cushion and she closed her eyes. Pete set down her bag and sat beside her. Her face was pale and scratched and white bandages covered both palms. "What happened to you?"

"A very long day at the office," she muttered.

"Hon, you've been gone for two weeks," he said.

Her eyes opened. "Huh?"

"You went to work two weeks ago."

"Two? Wow I didn't realize the time dilation was that bad," she muttered.

"Time dilation?" Pete asked, wondering if any of those scratches masked a concussion.

She nodded slowly, closing her eyes. "We opened a gate to a planet that was close to a black hole. The black hole's gravity was so strong it messed with everything, even time. As far as we knew, a couple of hours had passed but—"

"Two weeks," he interrupted.

"Mmhm."

"How did you fix it?"

She shifted over, nestling her head into his shoulder. She had to have come up with something, just because he knew she wouldn't be here if she'd failed. Or, at least, she'd be a lot grumpier. He was just hoping that she was too tired to regale him with all the details. He really wasn't in the mood for a long drawn out fifteen syllable word explanation of –

"We blew it up," she mumbled, sighing softly.

"You blew it up?"

"Mmhm."

"The black hole?"

"The Stargate."

"But I thought the stargate was impossible to destroy?"

"It is."

"But you blew it up?"

She nodded into his side. "Stargate go boom."

"Ok," he said slowly. "Stargate go boom. What do your bosses think about this?"

"He told me to fix it. I fixed it." She pulled her legs up onto the couch and shifted a bit, obviously settling in for the long haul.

"Hey," he said, giving her a small shake. "We need to get you to bed."

"I like it here," she protested.

"Yeah, well, my butt's going to sleep," he said, pushing her off him. He got to his feet and she groaned, flopping back down on the couch. "Come on, sleepyhead. You look like you're going to be sore tomorrow, you don't want to crash on this couch." He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her waist, supporting most of her weight as he led her back to her bedroom.

Once there he helped her onto the bed. She stretched out and flopped onto her back, watching him with heavy lidded eyes as he untied her boots, pulling out the laces so he could take the shoes off her feet. She reached for the buttons on her shirt, the bandages on her hand making her fumble. She finally unbuttoned the buttons and shrugged off the shirt, letting it fall onto the floor. "You want your jammies?" he asked, moving towards the dresser. She shook her head and rolled over, burrowing into the pillows.

Realizing that she was too far gone to do much, he grabbed the folded quilt off the bottom of the bed and laid it over her. "What time do you need be back?" he asked. "Sam?" he shook her when she didn't answer. "When do I need to wake you up?" His only response was a soft snore and he sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Let's just hope it's not too early in the morning," he muttered, turning and padding from the room.

After making a quick pass to secure the house for the night, he doused the lights and made his way to his own bedroom, knowing full well that she'd have one hell of a story to tell whenever she rejoined the land of the living.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Hey," Daniel said, sticking his head around the curtain. "You alive in there?"

Jack pushed himself up in the bed. "Depends on how you define alive," he muttered.

"Glad to see you too. Damn, Jack, you look like crap." Daniel sat down in the chair.

"It looks worse than it is," Jack dismissed. "How are things going out there?"

"Pretty good," Daniel said. "According to Sam, as soon as the bomb went off, the wormhole jumped to P2A-270. They just shut it down."'

"The off world teams?"

"All back, and all fine. There's a bit of a mess down in the gate room, but nothing too horrible," Daniel said.

"How's Cromwell?" Jack asked. The other colonel was in a bed across the room, still unconscious. From what Teal'c had told him, he and Carter had managed to get both men far enough away from the bomb to shield them from some of the blast. Some being the operative word. Jack still felt like he'd done ten rounds with a Mack truck, but considering the alternative was being smeared on the wall, he could deal.

"Janet says he's going to be fine. His concussion's a little worse than yours…and I'm supposed to tell you it's not a competition."

"Janet," Jack said, ignoring Daniel's last words.

"What?"

"You called her Janet."

"Did not."

"Did to."

"Not."

"To."

"Daniel."

"Ok, fine, I called her Janet," Daniel said. "What's the problem?"

"No problem," Jack said, relenting. "I'm just…Janet." He shrugged.

"We're friends. We talk." He sighed and leaned in. "She aah, after the whole Ashrak thing, she wanted to talk and…"

"You're good to talk to," Jack interrupted.

"I am?"

"Sometimes."

"Oh."

"Occasionally. Once in a while. Rarely—"

"Stop," Daniel interrupted. "I get the picture." He got to his feet. "Oh, wait." He stuck his hands in his pockets and pulled out two strings of dog tags. "Sam gave me these." He handed them to Jack. "One of them's yours and the other is—"

"Right," Jack interrupted, taking them from Daniel. "Thanks."

"Ok, well I'm going to go home and—"

"Alone?"

"None of your damn business," Daniel protested, his face coloring, confirming Jack's suspicions.

"Get the hell out of here," Jack said, rolling his eyes. "Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?"

Daniel left and Jack leaned back, sinking into the pillows. God, he was tired. His fingers closed over the dog tags and he raised his hand, carefully untangling the chain. His, he set to the side. He was used to wearing them while he slept, but right now he just wasn't in the mood.

He looked at Frank's, then glancing over at the man lying in the bed across the room. Frank had come through. And he now was in on their little secret. That was sure going to make things easier at the next barbecue. The hard part now would probably be keeping it PG in front of the kids.

Fighting boredom, he read the little piece of metal, frowning when he got to the blood type. A+. He never knew that. It was odd, as many things as they'd shared over the years; this hadn't been one of them.

_Jack stepped back inside, shoving the pack of cigarettes deep into his jacket pocket. Reaching for his change, he made a beeline towards the snack machines. He bought some gum and expertly un-wrapped it, shoving a couple of sticks into his mouth. As he chewed, he walked towards the elevators, the sterile walls of the hospital now as familiar to him as the walls of his own home._

_He'd been here a month now. And every morning Jack greeted the sunrise with mixed feelings. Every night that went by without a call meant that Charlie was still alive. Every night that went by without a call meant that he still wasn't awake; he was still in the coma. And every day that went by without a call, meant that the chances of Charlie ever waking up got smaller and smaller._

_He rode up to Charlie's floor and got out of the elevator, pausing in the lobby. He didn't want to go back to that room, didn't want to spend more hours sitting there, not talking to Sara as they both listened to the mindless prattle of daytime TV. Didn't want to spend even more hours staring at the still form of his son, wondering if Charlie was still in there, if he was just sleeping or if he was never going to wake up an they were just delaying the inevitable. He slipped into the small waiting room off the lobby, seeking solace in the solitude of the room._

_"You know, I feel sorry for him." The voice of one of the nurses wafted down the hall and Jack's ears perked up, morbidly curious. It'd actually be rather refreshing to hear someone else's tragedy._

_"I know, poor guy," another nurse commiserated. "I mean, there he is, keeping a vigil and the kid ain't even his."_

_"I wonder if he knows. The boy could be adopted."_

_"It's not in the file. Anyway, you weren't here when the boy was brought in. The dad offered to give blood. If the kid was adopted and he knew he was adopted then he had to know their blood wasn't compatible. Trust me, he didn't know."_

_The elevator dinged and the women's voices faded. Jack slowly walked out of the waiting room, his mind trying to process what he'd just heard. No. They could have been talking about anyone. Hell, there were a couple dozen patients on this floor alone. And any parent would offer to give blood to save their kid._

_He walked towards Charlie's room, pausing at the threshold. Sara was asleep, curled up in a large arm chair beside the bed. She did that a lot, spending the night awake and sleeping away the day. His eyes settled on the stiff plastic bracelet wrapped loosely around Charlie's pale wrist. He stepped forward, drawn towards the bed. Careful not to make a sound, he crossed the room, gently picking up his son's wrist. He squinted, struggling to read the blocky black print. _

_A+._

_That was his son's blood type. A+._

_Jack carefully laid his wrist down and reached for his own neck, pulling his dog tags out from under his shirt. B-. He knew that. Knew his own blood type. B-._

_Sara's was O-. He knew that, remembered it from when she'd had Charlie. She'd needed a blood transfusion and he remembered the nurse calling out Sara's blood type. O- and B-…There was a lot of stuff Jack didn't know. A lot of trivia he never bothered to fill his mind with. But one thing he remembered from a nurse he'd once dated…B and O did not equal A._

_Betrayal wrapped its icy hand around his heart and he looked up, his eyes settling on the two quiescent forms in the room. He stalked from the room, knowing that he needed to get the hell out of here before he did something he was going to regret._

"Colonel? Are you ok?"

Jack looked up, the woman's hands pulling him from his memories. "Lieutenant?"

"You've been staring at the wall for a good five minutes. Are you ok, sir?" Rush asked.

"Fine," Jack said, forcing a small smile on his face. "I'm fine."

"If you say so, sir," she said skeptically. "Can I get you something to help you sleep?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you." Jack dismissed the woman, lying back in the bed to encourage her to leave. Fortunately, she complied and he was left alone. His fingers running over the raised letters on the slip of metal in his hand he stared across the room, his gaze fixated on the supine figure. It couldn't be true….could it?

XXXXXXXXXX

"Looks like your dad's home," Sara said, recognizing Jack's truck as she pulled up in front of the house.

"Finally!" Charlie yelled. "I didn't think he was ever coming home."

"Does this mean we can go and see the movie now?" Cassie asked.

"We'll have to talk to your dad about that." Sara put the car into park and pulled the keys from the ignition. "He might not feel like going out just now."

"He will," Charlie insisted, opening the car door. "He promised."

Cassie followed him and the pair of them hurried up the walk, leaving Sara to grab the two bags of groceries. She walked into the house, smiling at the trio of voices coming from the living room. A quick glance confirmed that jack was seated on the couch, a kid on each side. They were laughing and chatting, faster than Sara could decipher their words.

She put the groceries away, letting them have their reunion. The front screen door slammed and suddenly the house was quiet. She sensed Jack joining her. "Where are the kids?"

"Playing outside," he said. "We need to talk."

Sara turned, the serious tone of his voice making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. "Jack? What's wrong?"

He moved closer, digging in his pocket. He pulled out a set of dog tags and held them out for her. "What are these?"

"Frank's ok by the way," he said, dropping the tags into her hand.

"That's good but…"

"You know, the Jaffa, they got a phrase…Del Mar to kim…or something like that." Sara stared, her husband's strange words puzzling her. "Loosely translated, it means cuckold. Which is a term I never thought would apply to me." His voice was cold and he stared at her, his eyes riveted to hers.

"Jack…"

"You know, I've actually known for years. I'd finally convinced myself that biology didn't matter. I raised him, fed him, and changed his diapers. Charlie's my son, even if I wasn't around when he was conceived."

"Jack—"

"Is that what you two do when I'm off-world? Is that why Frank's always around? Why you were so damned concerned that we stay friends? How many times, Sara? How many times has he slept in our bed?"

"Jack, it's not like that," she protested.

"So, it is Frank. He's Charlie's dad," Jack accused. Sara stared, realizing the magnitude of her error. He nodded slowly.

"You can reach me at the mountain. When I find somewhere else, I'll let you know."

Sara shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. She stepped forward, reaching out to take his arm. "Jack, please—"

He shrugged her hand off, pulling back. "Tell the kids I'll be by Friday night. We'll do our movie then."

He turned on his heel and stalked out of the house, leaving her alone. Silence swarmed around her and she sank onto the chair, her shaking hand covering her mouth. Her wedding ring glinted dully in the light, the golden sparkle mocking her as the finality of her situation sank in.

It was over.

Fin


	5. Chapter 5

Evolution: A Word from the Wise

By

Denise

Jack stumbled into the room, courtesy of a well placed hand in the small of his back. "Thank you," he quipped as the door clanged shut. He surveyed the room, not surprised to discover that the SGC hadn't changed much. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded, spinning to face Carter.

She slowly shook her head and sank down on a chair. "I don't know, sir."

"We were in the gateoom," he said.

"We were," she agreed.

"And now we're not."

She nodded. "I'm fairly certain that we've traveled back in time, roughly about thirty years. For a second or two, I think we were in both time-frames simultaneously, which is why the Stargate seemed to be there one minute and was gone the next."

"Little bump in the calculations, Captain?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't know what to say," she apologized.

"Daniel and Teal'c?"

She shook her head. "They were right behind us, sir. They should have followed us through."

He sighed and sat down at the table beside her. The room was a common barracks room, four beds, set up as bunk beds and a small table with four chairs around it.

There were no facilities in the room, no toilet or sink. Which, Jack knew, was a cost saving measure. Usually, the personnel who were assigned to the barracks were of a lower rank and all had access to a locker room down the hall. "Another energy surge?" he asked, referring to their little side trip to Antarctica.

She shook her head. "I don't think so, sir. The last time the gate spiked, we were thrown out the other end. This felt like a normal trip."

"So, now what?"

"If we really are in the past, our main goal has to be to NOT do anything."

"Excuse me?"

"There's something called the grandfather paradox." Jack stared at her, raising his eyebrow. "If you went back fifty years and murdered your own grandfather, your own father would have never been born."

"So you're saying that if we change our own past—"

"We could change our world in ways that we can't possibly imagine. We might even cease to exist, along with everything and everyone we know," she said.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Captain, but - haven't we altered history already just by being here?"

Sam nodded. "We have to concentrate on damage control. At the very least, destroy our advanced weapons and technology."

"That's gonna be a little tough."

"We also cannot tell anyone anything about who we are or where we're from."

"This is a top secret facility. Anonymity does not go over big here," Jack said.

"Sir, we can't tell them who we are."We can only hope that Daniel and Teal'c never left our SGC."

"Why not? We could use the help."

"Can we use Teal'c's larva in the wrong hands?" she asked pointedly.

Jack heard the rattle of keys in the lock and looked up, watching impassively as an officer stepped in. He said a few words in a foreign language and Jack looked to Sam, recognizing it but pretending that he didn't.

She slowly shook her head, either not recognizing it herself or playing along. "Come with me," the officer said.

"Yeah," Jack muttered. He glanced at Carter and got to his feet following the officer out of the room. He shoulda called in sick this morning.

XXXXXXXXXX

"What the hell happened?" Daniel demanded, storming into the control room.

"The gate just shut down," Harriman said.

"Yeah, I saw that," Daniel said. "Open it back up."

"Belay that," General Hammond said, stepping forward.

"General Hammond?" Teal'c asked. "Why can we not open the stargate to P2X555 and rejoin Captain Carter and

O'Neill?"

The general sighed. "In my office, gentlemen," he instructed. "Sergeant, send a MALP through to P2X555 to verify that Colonel O'Neill and Captain Carter aren't there. And notify SG-5. Presuming the colonel and the captain aren't there, SG-5 will complete the mission."

"Yes, sir."

"General," Daniel prodded.

"Doctor Jackson, Teal'c. Upstairs." Daniel followed the general up the stairs and into the man's office, declining his offer of a seat.

"What's going on, general?" Daniel asked. "Jack and Sam could be in trouble even as we speak. Why can't we go help them?"

"Doctor Jackson, this is going to sound odd, but if they are where I think they are, they've got all the help they need," he said cryptically.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam sat in the back of the truck, staring at the colonel. He'd been uncharacteristically quiet since his return to the cell. For some strange reason, they hadn't questioned her. She didn't know if it was because she was the inferior officer or maybe they just didn't like to question women. Whatever it was, she didn't mind. From the way the colonel smelled she'd probably still have a headache from the smoke.

"Where do you think we're going?" she asked, clinging to the first topic that came to mind to fill the awkward silence.

"Where do we send our problems?"

"Area 51, great," she muttered, sighing. "Nevada in the summer, and me without my swimsuit."

"Chances are they'll probably try to split us up," he said, ignoring her words. "So, we're not going to have much time to—"

"Escape and hopefully live out the rest of our lives without affecting history," she interrupted.

"Or?" He raised his eyebrows.

"I can't think of an "or" at the moment, sir."

"There's an "or," he insisted stubbornly.

"Sir, you can't just will something to happen because you want it to be a certain way," she said.

"Captain... where there's a will, there's an "or." She frowned at him, wondering if the interrogators had done more than just try to asphyxiate him. "way," he corrected.

"Colonel, I don't know where or when we are. I have no idea how we got here, so I have no point of reference to use to figure out how the hell—" The truck jerked and she broke off, struggling to steady herself with her cuffed hands. "That didn't feel good."

"You get a chance, get the hell out of here," he said.

"Sir?"

"Trust me, living in the past has to be better than what they got planned for us in Nevada," he said coldly.

The door opened and a young man stepped in, pistol in his hand. "Flat tire?" Jack asked.

"I'm the one who arranged it," the lieutenant confessed. "Before I can even think of doing what's asked in the note, I need to know who you are and who gave it to you."

Sam stared at the man, wondering if it was some sort of trick, maybe they were being set up so that they could be killed while attempting to escape. Her eyes settled on his nametag and she stared, trying to process the information. "Oh, my God," she muttered. "My name is Samantha Carter, and... you gave me the note, sir."

"Carter?" the colonel asked.

"Sir, before we left, General Hammond gave me a note and told me to keep it in my vest pocket until I got to the other side," she explained.

"It's addressed to me. In my handwriting," the lieutenant said.

"What's it say?" Jack asked.

"Help them. And seeing as helping you will undoubtedly lead to court-martial, I'd like to know why I would do that," Hammond asked.

"Because it's your idea," Sam said.

"Albeit one you won't have for a few years."

"What?"

"I know this is kind of hard to understand, but – we've traveled back in time."

Hammond frowned, obviously not believing them. "I'm sorry. I can't help you—"

"We can prove it," Jack said. "What's the date?"

"August 4th, 1969."

"Sixty nine. Carter, what happened in sixty-nine?"

She shrugged. "I don't…the moon landing," she said, grasping the first memory she could come up with.

"The entire world knows that," Hammond dismissed.

"But not too many people know you watched it from your father's bedside in his hospital room... just two days after his first heart attack," Jack said.

"How did you know?"

"Because we know you. We will know you. And for some reason, thirty years ago, you decided we were gonna need help. Otherwise, you wouldn't be standing there with a note. Now are you gonna listen to yourself? Or not?"

Sam stared, trying to read the man's thoughts. Even if he didn't decide to help them, could they overpower him? Technically, she knew they could, but the handcuffs complicated things a bit. And how many m ore were outside? They'd doubtlessly shoot to kill.

"There are two other men, including the driver," he said, bending over and unlocking the colonel's cuffs.

"Thank you, thank you."

Hammond turned to her and Sam winced as his hand bumped into the cut on the back of her hand. "Ow," she instinctively pulled her hand back.

"I'm sorry, miss. Did I hurt you," he apologized.

"It's "Captain. And it's all right, Lieutenant." She took a second to enjoy the novelty of outranking her commanding officer. "Um, may I see the note?"

He handed it to her and sat beside her. "Look, we don't want to hurt anybody, but we are going to have to knock those guys out somehow," the colonel said.

"Will this do?" Hammond held up a zat and Jack took it.

"All right, call for help," Jack instructed.

"What?"

"We've mysteriously escaped," Sam said, shoving the note into her pocket.

"Ah." Hammond nodded, getting to his feet. He opened the back doors to the truck and jumped out. "Help!"

Jack motioned for Sam to move behind him as he readied the zat. She moved and squatted down, trying to be as small of a target as possible. The other two men appeared at the back of the truck and the colonel shot one of them, jumping down to get the other one.

Knowing that it was safe, Sam stood up, joining him. "Where's the rest of our gear?" he asked.

"Um, the Major ordered it shipped in a separate truck for security reasons. They should be right behind," Hammond said, staring in amazement at the two unconscious men.

"All right, good. Get down on the ground. Go." Hammond hurried to follow his command and Sam stepped to the side of the truck, out of sight of the road.

She heard the sound of the other truck coming. It stopped and she heard doors open. The zat fired twice and Sam waited, not knowing how many people were in the truck. "Clear," the colonel said.

Sam hurried out as Hammond got to his feet. She followed the colonel to the back of the second truck. He climbed in and pushed back a tarp, revealing a large box. He dug in it, tossing Sam a zat and GDO. "Everything you confiscated from us is in these two boxes?"

"Except for your ray gun, yes," Hammond answered.

The colonel nodded and stepped back. "Watch yourself." He fired the zat three times, disintegrating everything. "All right, your Major What's-His-Name had videotapes of this thing in action."

"Uh, yes. It was in those boxes along with everything else."

"Good," the colonel said, jumping down from the truck. "Carter?"

"That's it, sir."

Jack nodded. "Got any money?" he asked Hammond.

"Ah, yeah, I might have some." The lieutenant dug in his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. Jack took it from him.

"I'll pay you back, with interest," he promised.

"One more thing," Sam said. "You have to keep everything you've seen and everything we've told you a secret, and I

mean for the rest of your life."

Hammond nodded slowly. "General Hammond." I like the sound of that," he agreed. "What are you going to do now?"

"Well, you're better off not knowing. But I do want you to know that what I'm about to do keeps you from getting court-martialed." The colonel spun and shot Hammond with the zat. The lieutenant slumped to the asphalt, unconscious. "We need to get off this road."

He headed towards the trees and Sam followed him, casting one last look over her shoulder. She trotted to catch up, grateful that they were in the past. With any luck, they'd have at least a couple of hours head start on any search party. "Sir?" she asked, finally catching up with him. "What's the plan?"

"Find the Stargate," Jack said.

"That's it?"

"Elegant in its simplicity, don't you think?" he asked.

"And if we don't find it?"

"There's one in Antarctica."

"Yeah, and we nearly died there last time," she said, annoyed with his flip attitude. "Even if we find the Stargate, how are we getting home?"

"Well, now, that's all in the note. Right?"

"Umm, no, sir," Sam confessed reluctantly.

"No, sir?"

"It doesn't explain how to get back, at least not in so many words."

He held out his hand and she handed it to him, cringing at his anticipated reaction. He wasn't going to like this on a good day. And they definitely weren't having a good day. Of course, he hadn't been having a good week, month…months. In fact, he'd been a royal pain in the ass.

"Help them," he read. "August 10th, 9:15 A.M., August 11th, 6:03 P.M." That's helpful."

"Well, I suppose he had to be intentionally cryptic so as not to risk changing his own history," she offered as an explanation.

"August 10th... that's cryptic," he said, handing the not back to her.

"General Hammond specifically gave this to me, so it has to mean something," she insisted.

"Then you better figure out what it means, because I lived through the seventies once, I'm in no mood to do it again."

He spun on his heel and stalked away, leaving her no choice but to follow. Maybe she should go back, see if the search party had arrived yet. Compared to spending the rest of her life with Colonel the Grouch, captivity didn't seem all that bad.

XXXXXXXXXX

The ticking of the clock echoed through the quiet room and Sara found her fingers drumming in time, her fingers sliding smoothly across the polished surface of the table. She sighed and looked up at the clock again, her ire growing as the minute hand crept further around the clock.

"Maybe we should postpone—"

"No," Sara interrupted the attorney. "If he's not here by now, he's not going to make it."

She turned to look Jack's attorney in the eyes. "Why don't we do what we can without him," she suggested.

"Mrs. O'Neill, I can't fully represent your husband—"

"I'm not asking you to," she interrupted. "Look, this is simple. I'm going to move to Denver and live with my father for a bit. I think we'll get along just fine living with him. If, in six months, I decide that it doesn't work out, I would like half of the house to use as a down payment to buy my own. Our bank account and savings account, we can just cut in half." The attorney scribbled notes on his pad. "We bought some stocks to use for Charlie's education, I, of course, want those. There's some furniture of my grandmother's in the house, I want that, along with my car." She frowned at her own attorney. "I think that's about it."

"Your husband is a colonel in the US Air Force. He's got a fairly healthy retirement coming, and as his wife of fifteen years you're entitled—"

"Rod, we've been over this," Sara interrupted. "Mike is…very well off. His estate is my retirement."

"And if something happens? A catastrophic illness," he pushed, using an old argument. She and her attorney had been beating this topic to death since their first meeting two months ago. He was a good attorney and definitely had her best interests—and his fee—at heart. And he wouldn't listen when she tried to tell him that it was her fault. Ok, yes, Jack's job had a lot to do with it…but she did have to be honest and admit that their marriage was going to die as the result of one little indiscretion sixteen years ago.

"I'll deal with it if it happens," she said, her tone icy.

"What about custody?" Jack's attorney asked. Sara frowned, trying to remember the man's name. Richard, that was it. Richard.

"I think, given Jack's work schedule, Charlie is best with me. His doctors are in Colorado Springs and I'm sure we can work out holidays and weekends. Jack can see Charlie whenever he wants to."

Richard flipped through his files. "There's also an adolescent girl—"

"Cassandra stays with Jack," Sara said.

"Excuse me?"

"Cassandra is adopted. It was Jack's idea that we adopt her. And she also has…certain needs that are best fulfilled in Colorado Springs. My son and I will live in Denver. Cassandra can live with Jack…or maybe he can find her another home," she said, hating how callous she sounded.

She knew it would break Charlie's heart, but she just couldn't handle two children, especially not with all Cassandra's medical issues on top of Charlie's.

"Mrs. O'Neill, this is…"

"Not uncommon," Sara interrupted Richard. "Divorced parents often split the children." Sara sighed. "Jack works. His absence here is proof of that. If Jack has custody, Charlie will spend most of his time with a babysitter—"

"I'm sure Colonel O'Neill would be willing to alter his work hours," Richard interrupted.

Sara shook her head. "I won't ask Jack to do that."

"But you are if he has custody of Cassandra," Richard said pointedly.

"Cassandra is a refugee. Jack brought her home like a lost puppy. She is a beautiful child, but I can't handle two teenagers on my own." Sara got to her feet. "Those are my terms. Jack either agrees or we'll take this to court. I don't consider any of my requests unreasonable…and I don't think Jack will either." She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. "Presuming he comes home any time soon, let me know what he says."

She walked out of the room, her heart pounding in her chest. She quickly made her way outside, not relaxing until she reached her car and got inside. "Ok, that could have been worse," she muttered, knowing full well that the true test would be when Jack got home…if he made it home.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam perused the racks of the second hand store, flipping through items, trying to find just the right mix of size and price. Fortunately for them, payday must have been just a few days ago, but still they'd only gotten a little over a hundred dollars. Gas was astonishingly cheap given what they were used to, but they still didn't know how long that money would have to last them.

So they were trying to conserve, which meant one change of clothes each. Hopefully, it wouldn't take them long to find out how to get home.

Her mind drifted back to the note. 'Help them. August 10th, 9:15 A.M., August 11th, 6:03 P.M.' So they were only stuck here for a week, presuming that the note held the key to getting home. Presuming that she could figure out how they'd ended up in the past, and presuming that she could find out how to get them back to the future.

That was a lot of presuming, and a lot of thinking…and she had absolutely NO idea where to start.

"Carter," Jack's voice cut into her thoughts. "We do NOT have all day." He appeared beside her, jeans and a jacket clutched in his hand. "If you can't find something, you can just wear your fatigues."

He spun on his heel and stalked towards the front of the store. Sam closed her eyes, her fingers clenching around a hanger. She was getting sick of this, sick of his bad attitude and horrible mood. Yes, it was probably her fault that they were here. She had to have figured something wrong, made some error in the calculations. But it wasn't like she did it on purpose. And she was just as stuck as he was.

"Carter?" He glared impatiently at her. Quickly checking the size, she pulled a denim skirt off the rack, knowing that it would likely go with anything, even the shirt and boots she'd already picked out. She hurried up to the register, laying her clothes on the counter to be rung up.

The clerk frowned at them, his eyes raking over their BDU's. "You know, it does get chilly at night," he said, pushing the buttons on the cash register.

"It's August," Jack said, pulling the bills out of his pocket. He handed them to the cashier and picked up his clothes, leaving Sam to get her own.

"He just come back?" he asked, handing her the change.

"Yeah," she answered, grasping the explanation for Jack's poor mood.

The cashier nodded. "Thought so. My brother's just like that." He handed her the change and bent over, pulling a couple of jackets from under the counter. "Someone just brought these in." He handed them to her. "They should fit."

Sam shook her head. "I don't—"

"On the house. Consider it a welcome home present. Even if you don't need them now, you will eventually."

"Thank you," Sam said, taking the jackets. He was right. They probably wouldn't need them for a month or so, but if she couldn't find a way home, they would come in handy. Especially since she knew there was no way their money would last that long.

"Sam?" Jenny stuck her head in the door. "Jack wants to go."

"Coming," Sam said, smiling at the woman. "Thank you," she said again to the clerk.

"Peace, sister," he said, holding up his hand, his fingers in a V shape.

Sam stepped outside, her eyes squinting because of the bright sunlight. Jenny smiled at her and held out her hands.

"Let me help you." She took the jackets. "This is cool," she said, running her fingers over one of them. Now that they were outside Sam could see what the clerk had given her. One of the jackets was a light tan color, made from some sort of heavy woven material. The other was your typical black leather bikers jacket, and one she knew the colonel would love. He wore leather jackets a lot, even used one as a winter coat.

"Yeah, it is," Sam agreed.

They made their way towards the bus. Michael was standing outside, a couple of paper bags at this feet, his arms crossed over his chest. "Michael?"

"He's changing," he answered Jenny. "If we leave pretty soon, we can make Lubbock by night fall."

"Which is good," Jack said, stepping out of the bus. "Sooner we get to New York, the better." He pointedly looked at Sam and raised his eyebrows.

"Right," she said, getting his meaning. "I'll just go get changed." She climbed up into the bus and made her way back to the living area. It took her only a few minutes to shuck her fatigues and exchange them for the skirt and peasant blouse. The clothes fit, which was a good thing since she knew they really didn't have time to exchange clothes.

The colonel was right; their best chance of getting home was probably tied to the stargate. And finding Catherine was the most likely way to find wherever the military had hidden the gate.

"You decent?" Jack called.

"Yeah," Sam answered, neatly folding her fatigues and shoving them into a corner. She needed to ask the colonel what they should do with their clothes. It seemed a waste to destroy them, especially since they only had two changes of clothes, but she also knew that even the tags inside the clothing could mess with the timeline. That, and considering the fact that they were in a style that wasn't going to even exist for a few years.

Michael was helping Jenny carry the groceries and Sam stepped forward, taking the bag from him. "I'll help her put them away," she offered. The couple's larder/kitchen was comprised of a large ice chest, a foot locker and a camp stove. It meant that they needed to stop frequently to buy more ice and perishables, but they seemed to do pretty well.

"Then I guess it's time to leave," Michael said, pulling the keys from his pocket. He returned to the front of the bus and slid into the driver's seat. Sam hurried to finish securing the groceries before sinking down on the bench. She estimated that it'd take them two days to reach New York. This meant that she had roughly forty-eight hours to figure out what do to with the Stargate when they found it.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack walked across the clearing, using the flickering light of the campfire to guide his way. Michael and Jenny were in the bus, the young man having requested a little 'private time' for the couple. Jack could see Sam sitting by herself by the fire, her gaze apparently set off into the distance.

She'd been quiet all day; actually, she'd been rather quiet since their escape from Cheyenne Mountain. Carter when she was quiet was always something to worry about. Usually, when they were off world, she only got quiet when she was hurting or pissed. And since he knew she wasn't physically in any distress, he had a pretty good idea why she was so withdrawn. And he was pretty sure that the responsibility lay squarely in his lap.

Rationally, he knew that their situation wasn't her fault. Even if she'd made an error in the calculations, they still knew that something like this was a risk every single time they stepped across the event horizon.

He reached the campfire and sat next to her, not surprised when she didn't acknowledge his presence. He grabbed the pot of soup heating over the fire and poured two cups, handing one to her. "Thanks," she said absently, her gaze still riveted on the fire.

Jack stretched out his legs, inadvertently kicking one of the branches. It flared briefly, sparks rising into the dark sky.

"A flare," she muttered suddenly.

"What?" Jack asked.

"That's the only explanation. We had to have been sent back because of a solar flare," she said, turning to face him.

"I thought you said your math was wrong?" Jack said.

She shook her head. "I don't think so. Sir, one of the things I was asked to research after the Abydos mission was alternative applications for the gate. Including time travel."

"Ok, what'd you come up with?" Jack asked, feeling the need to mend some fences with the woman. He'd been distinctly out of sorts the past couple of days and he knew he'd taken it out on her.

"What if a massive solar flare just happened to occur at the exact moment that we were traveling between Earth and another Stargate? If the wormhole itself was redirected closer to the sun because of the Earth's magnetic field, the increased gravity could slingshot us back to Earth," she theorized.

Jack shook his head. "If it's this easy, why haven't we tried it before?"

"Because flares are impossible to predict. Light takes several minutes to travel between the Earth and the sun, so by the time a flare of sufficient magnitude has been confirmed, it's already too late."

"Then how does this help us get home?" Jack said, tamping down on his frustration.

"August 10th, 9:15 A.M. It's in the note," she said.

"The time and date of the next flare?"

"Yeah. General Hammond must have used my own research to figure out what we needed."

"Ok. So now what do we need?"

"This is only a theory, so I think we first need to find an observatory, see what happens the day after tomorrow. If there's a solar flare, we'll know we're on the right track. Then we need to find the Stargate."

"It's in DC," Jack said.

"Sir?"

"Bout a year ago, Daniel was digging through old records. He had me do a search of every warehouse the gate was kept in. From sixty-six to seventy-eight, it was in an armory in DC."

"I know there's an observatory in Pittsburgh," Sam said.

"Carter?"

"My dad was stationed there. We went on a field trip," she explained.

"Ok." He sighed. "We'll get to Pittsburgh by tomorrow night, check out your theory the next day, then get to D.C.," he planned.

"Yes, sir." She moved to get to her feet.

"Carter," he said, reaching out to grab her hand. "I'm aah, I've been a bit of an asshole lately, I'm sorry," he apologized.

She sat back down. "Sir, if I can—"

"Sara and I are getting divorced," he said, saying the words out loud for the first time. He hadn't told any members of his team; Daniel didn't even know exactly what was going on. He knew that there was some tension between Jack and Sara.

"That explains it," she said softly.

"Explains what?" he asked.

"When a senior officer lives on the base for a week, people notice," she said sheepishly.

Jack grunted. Yeah, it would have been too much to hope for that no on noticed that he'd moved into one of the VIP suites for a week a couple of months ago. Hammond knew, but Jack had asked the man not to say anything. The last thing he was in the mood for was sympathetic platitudes. "I said I was getting the house fumigated," he muttered.

"Daniel drove by, he saw Sara still there and—"

"Put two and two together," Jack interrupted.

"Yeah. I'm sorry," she said sincerely.

"Bound to happen eventually," he said. "We were supposed to have a hearing yesterday," he confessed. "Decide who gets what and all that."

"And you missed it." She squeezed his arm. "I'm—"

"Don't," he interrupted. "It's not like you knew what was going to happen."

"Still, I—"

"Carter, stop," he ordered. "Drink your soup," he said, noticing the mug in her hand.

"Colonel?"

"The bus is off limits right now, you don't want to go tramping in the woods in the dark, so you may as well eat," he said, picking up his mug and taking a large swig of the cooling liquid.

"Why's the bus off limits?" she asked, following suit. He raised his eyebrows at her. "Oh," she said, her face coloring a bit.

"Yeah." He sighed and leaned back, picking up a long stick to poke the fire with. "How did your divorce go?" he asked impulsively. Normally it was a question he'd never ask someone, at least not a female under his command that he'd barely known a year. But he felt like he could talk with her for some reason.

When he thought about it, he really didn't know that much about her. Her late father was a general, she'd been married to some man named Jonas Hanson, and she lived with a cop named Pete. She had a penchant for blue Jell-O and had an annoying habit of getting obsessed with her work.

"I didn't divorce Jonas," she said softly, setting down her mug.

"Carter?"

She snorted. "I can't believe you don't know," she said, looking at him.

He shook his head, puzzled at her reaction. "I don't. You're not married and you live with Pete. At least, that's what I remember you saying," he said, recalling their time trapped in the glacier in Antarctica.

She sighed, wrapping her fingers around her mug as she settled down, her back against a fallen log. "My dad never liked Jonas. I never knew why but…sometimes I wonder if I didn't marry him just to prove my dad wrong," she said, her voice low.

"You know how they say hindsight is 20/20?" She craned her neck to look at him.

"Yeah."

"It was with Jonas. Looking back, I can see what he was doing. We'd move, sometimes twice a year. Jonas was with the quartermaster and he'd always tell me that the moving was a good thing. That he was in demand. He'd restructure places, streamline, and make them more efficient. That we moved because, as soon as he fixed one base, they'd need him somewhere else."

"That's aah…well—"

"He was lying," she interrupted. "It turns out Jonas was…getting creative with the bookkeeping."

"Embezzlement?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "And he kept getting away with it by paying off the right people."

"For how long?"

"Years. This is another reason he wanted to marry me."

"Huh?"

"I was his insurance," she said bitterly.

"He was counting on your father bailing him out."

"Yeah," she confirmed.

"It was starting to catch up with him though." She sighed. "I got tired of all the moving. It was always for him. It furthered his career. Mine was suffering. Things started to change after General Hammond contacted me about the Stargate. I transferred to the Pentagon and Jonas had no choice but to follow." She grimaced.

"I take it he didn't like that," Jack said.

"You take right. He didn't have any friends on the east coast. And his friends on the west coast didn't like losing their easy money. Eventually, he went back."

"And he pressured you every time he visited," Jack said.

"Yep." She nodded. "And after you went to Abydos and the stargate got shut down, the research petered out. Pretty soon, I didn't have a reason not to go with him." She set down her mug. "So, I transferred back out to California. The problem was, while I was gone, he'd gotten careless. People were starting to suspect."

"What'd he do?" Jack asked quietly.

"Framed me." She stated. "It's actually pretty pathetic how easy it was."

"You both had the same service record," he said.

"Yep. Same place, same time. He changed a few things, made it look like I used him… used his ID to embezzle. The problem was, I found out what he was doing before he could finish it. And then I made the second big mistake of my life. I confronted him."

"What happened?"

"He aah, he hit me and tossed me down the basement stairs and locked me in," she said evenly. "He then proceeded to frame me for his embezzlement and let my CO think I was AWOL."

"Carter." He reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder.

"It took me a week to figure out how to get out of there," she said, ignoring his gesture, her gaze fixated on the fire. "The problem was he came home early." She trailed off and he stayed silent, watching her. Her hands began to move in her lap, the fingers of one caressing the other. "He had his sidearm and his plans were to kill me and dump my…body and let me take the rap for his crimes."

"You shot him," Jack said, putting two and two together. He had to be dead. If he wasn't, then he would have been noted in her file.

"I killed him." She scooted around, turning to face him. "And then I spent the better part of the next year trying to clear my name and disprove everything he'd worked so hard to prove."

"You succeeded, or you wouldn't be here," he said.

"Only with a lot of help," she said. "Pete was the first officer on the scene, and I think, the only one that believed me. He aah, he kept digging and digging. Jonas' friends put a lot of pressure on him, on his boss."

"He was going to expose them."

"Yeah. Most people wouldn't have cared, but he did. And he finally did it, finally uncovered enough evidence to prove that I had nothing to do with it. He proved that I killed Jonas out of self-defense. I literally owe him my life," she said sincerely.

"Is that why he moved to Colorado?"

She shook her head. "Not quite. There was a price to pay for backing me up."

"They fired him?"

"No. Not quite. But it was made very clear that he was no longer welcome in California. He uncovered too much about the wrong people."

"So, you two came here?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. So, I'm afraid I'm not much good at advice," she said ruefully. "But I do know a good defense attorney if you ever need one."

"I'll bear that in mind," he said. He heard a creak and turned, seeing Michael and Jenny slip out of the bus. "I think our banishment's over. We should get some sleep."

"We could stay out here," she offered.

"Carter?"

"It's not like we never sleep outside," she said. "You could go get some blankets and we could just stay here by the fire," she suggested.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She smiled up at him. "It'll be fun."

"Ok." He nodded. "I'll go get the blankets. Be back in a few." He walked towards the bus, intent upon getting their blankets before the two kids returned. Astonishingly enough, he thought as he picked up the blankets and pillows, he didn't dread the thought of sleeping on the hard ground; in fact, he was oddly looking forward to it.

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel stared at the TV, barely noticing when Janet joined him, holding out a glass. "Here," she prodded.

"What? Oh, thanks." He took it from her, taking a sip and then leaning forward, setting the glass down on the coffee

table.

He leaned back, again staring sightlessly at the flickering TV set. "You are a million miles away," she complained.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I just can't stop thinking about them."

"They're going to be ok," she reassured him, her hand stroking his arm. He'd been like this the past few days, ever since the gate shut down, stranding him and Teal'c at the SGC while Sam and Colonel O'Neill were…somewhere.

"Jan, the last time this happened—"

"The last time this happened you were coming home, under fire," she reminded. "The situations totally different," she reassured him.

"I know I just wish I was with them."

He slumped dejectedly down in the couch cushions and her heart went out to him. He was taking it hard. It had taken all of her powers of persuasion to get him to leave the SGC for the evening. And even then, he'd only agreed to leave after they'd given both of their cell phone numbers and extracted a promise to be notified the instant the SGC heard something.

"I know," she said.

"If I was there, maybe I could help them get home," he continued.

"Where do you think they are?" she asked, sensing that he needed to talk it out.

He frowned. "Um, they can't be on Earth," he said. "There's only two Stargates and we have control of both of those. And they never arrived on the planet…"

"What about like last time?" she asked. "Do you think they're somewhere along the way?"

"It's the only place they could be," he said. "But General Hammond won't even hear about any sort of rescue mission," he said.

"None?"

"No, nothing," he said, frustrated. "It doesn't make any sense. It's almost like he doesn't care."

"I don't think that's the case," she said. "He would never do that to one of his people."

"That's how it seems," he said. "He won't let us search, he doesn't seem worried. Jan, it doesn't make any sense." He turned to face her. "What other explanation is there?"

She shrugged. "Maybe he just knows that it's all going to work out," she said, offering the only reassurance she could.

XXXXXXXXXX

"We'll just be a little bit," Sam said as Michael pulled the bus to the curb.

"It might be best if you didn't hang too close," Jack said, cringing at the thought of how much attention the psycadelic bus would draw.

"That's cool," he said. "We'll go wait a couple blocks away."

"We need some groceries," Jenny said.

"Ok," Jack said, following Sam out of the bus. "You guys go shopping, then come back and get us."

The door closed and the bus drove off in a cloud of exhaust fumes. "This place hasn't changed a bit," Sam said, walking towards the observatory. "It looks just like I remembered it."

"When were you here?" he asked.

"What?"

"When did you visit?"

"Umm…eighth grade," she said, turning to cover his back as he fumbled with the lock.

"Which means you're not going to be here for what, seven, eight years?" The lock gave and he pushed the door

open, holding it so that she could follow.

"More like ten," she confessed. "Forgot about that."

"As long as you haven't forgotten how to work this thing," he quipped, now following her as she led him into the observatory room.

"I remember. I just hope no one notices that we're here." She pushed buttons on some of the consoles, turning on the equipment without opening the large domed roof.

"What do we need to do?" he asked, helping her turn things on. This wasn't quite like the telescope he'd operated at Hanka, but it was close enough that he could figure things out.

"As soon as we get close to the time, we'll open the roof, align the telescope and look at the sun," she said, sitting down in one of the chairs. "Oh, and we've got to remember to use the hydrogen alpha filter." He raised his eyebrows.

"If we don't, we'll aah, well we'll burn our eyes out," she said, smiling a bit.

"Burn our eyes out?" he asked skeptically.

"Actually it's more like permanently damaging our retinas, same difference."

"Fine, we'll use the filter," he agreed, the idea of burned retinas not sounding too good. "Anything else?"

She shook her head. "Nope."

"Ok, how much longer?"

She looked at her watch. "Fifteen minutes."

"What happens if this doesn't work?" he asked.

She shrugged. "We stay here."

"In the past?"

"It's the only thing we can do, sir," she said. "Even if we find the stargate and go to another planet, we're still thirty years in the past. And if we do that, we risk messing up the development of a second planet," she explained.

He sighed, agreeing with her. "So, we stay here."

She nodded. "And try to live out the rest of our lives not messing anything up."

They sat silently for a few seconds and Jack watched the second hand of the clock complete circle after circle.

"What would you do?" he asked, feeling the need to fill the silence.

"Sir?"

"Let's say we're stuck here. What will you do?"

She thought a minute. "I don't know." She looked at him. "We can't join the military, that's for sure."

"Why not?"

"First of all, there's only one Jack O'Neill in the Air Force," she smiled.

"Actually, there's two," he corrected.

"Really?"

"But the other guy has only one L and absolutely no sense of humor," he deadpanned.

She chuckled. "Regardless of that, we can't run the risk of our fingerprints ending up in the database and creating problems for our future selves when they join up."

He shrugged. "Ok, military's out. Although that's probably a good thing. I doubt you'd enjoy it very much right now.

"Colonel?"

"Women's lib is just getting started," he said.

"Ah. Well then, maybe I'll teach," she said, smiling enthusiastically.

"A teacher?" He raised his eyebrows. That was probably the last thing he expected her to say. She just never struck him as the apple loving kind.

"Why not?"

"I'm just thinking if you say we need to minimize our contact with people, is a teacher a good job?" he asked pointedly.

She stared at him for a minute, her face falling. "You're right," she agreed.

"Look, I didn't mean," he started, not wanting to totally crush her enthusiasm. If they were stuck here he knew it was going to be tough on both of them. They'd have to find a way to fit in, find a way to contribute to a society that just wasn't ready for them.

For him, he figured that it'd be easy. He could live the quiet life. Find a place out of the way, probably up in the mountains and basically retire early. But he knew that the quiet life probably didn't appeal to Carter. She thrived on solving problems, on pushing her brain to the limit striving to comprehend what others found uncomprehendable.

Unfortunately, that kind of thinking didn't go well with flying under the radar. They couldn't afford to draw attention to themselves in any way. He honestly didn't know if she'd be content with the role society would thrust upon her.

"No, you're right," she agreed. "What if I flunked the wrong kid?"

Her shoulders slumped and he reached out, laying his hand on her arm. "We'll get home," he reassured her.

"Right," she said unconvincingly.

"Carter, I told you down in Antarctica that we'd get home, didn't I?"

"Colonel—"

"Hey, didn't I?" he insisted.

"Yeah," she nodded.

"I was right then, and I'm right now," he said. "We're gonna make it home." He looked at his watch. "And in about three minutes, the sun will flare and we'll know."

"Three? Oh my God, I almost forgot." She jumped to her feet and opened the dome, quickly instructing him to turn the telescope. He followed her instruction and stood behind her as climbed up the short ladder and peered through the eye piece.

He fiddled as she watched, having nothing else to do. "Well?" he asked, impatient. She ignored him and he frowned, not sure if it was a good or bad thing. "Carter?" Still not getting a response, he shook her leg. "Captain," he said harshly.

She chuckled and looked down at him. "Have I ever told you how much I love it when I'm right?" she asked, smiling broadly.

"We're going home?" he asked.

"We're going home," she said. She turned and started down the steps. Her feet tangled in the skirt and she stumbled, falling forward.

Instinctively, his hands went out as he tried to catch her. The weight threw them off balance and they both tumbled to the floor. She landed on top of him, her body pressing him into the floor and knocking the wind from his lungs. He looked up, meeting her shocked gaze. Time stood still for a second as he stared, really looking into her face for the first time.

She looked back; her blue eyes open wide and her lips slightly parted. He saw kindness in her eyes, kindness and strength and realized that he was finally seeing the true Samantha Carter. Not the captain, not the general's daughter, but the woman.

"Sorry," she muttered, pushing herself off him. "I'm not used to wearing a skirt. Are you ok?" She got to her feet and held out her hand, helping him up.

"Fine," he said. "It takes more than a tumble to take me down, you know that." He smiled at her. He deliberately looked at his watch. "We better go."

"Yeah," she said. "Right." She looked around and he thought he saw her flush a bit, her cheeks coloring. "We better go," she agreed.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam lay on the bench seat, the rhythm of tires on pavement lulling her into a near hypnotic state. The occasional flash of headlights washed in through the windows, illuminating the interior briefly, and then letting it fade into darkness.

They were driving through the night, afraid that the gate would be too well guarded and prevent them from gaining access to it if they waited until daylight to travel.

As she lay there, she watched the light wash over the colonel's face. He was sleeping, tired after driving all day. She noticed that his face was softer when he slept, more at peace and open. She'd never done this before, watched him.

When they were off-world and camping, their watches rarely coincided and even when they did, she was usually too busy keeping an eye on the horizon to give her teammates more than a cursory look.

There was something about him, something that drew her to him. He was a lot like Jonas, in a way. But he was also very different. He had something Jonas lacked, a sense of honor and integrity and she knew that she could trust him with her life. He respected her, which was something Jonas never did.

She liked him, she really liked him. And it scared her. She was afraid that she'd like him too much. One of the first lessons she'd learned as a woman in the military was that the only thing that was hated more than a traitor, it was an adulterer. This is why she'd always been careful to be more than circumspect with her teammates. It helped that they were all married, or had been until recently. Yes, Daniel was recently widowed and Teal'c's wife lived light years away but still, married was married. And 'married' was her safety blanket with the colonel. Married kept her from thinking all those things a good second in command didn't think about her CO.

And her safety blanket was gone now.

The last thing she ever expected to hear was that he and Sara were getting divorced. The few times she'd been over to their house, they'd seemed so happy together. Sure, there were the odd tense moment or harsh word, but everyone did that. Lord knows she and Jonas had raised the rafters a time or two.

This did explain his bad moods over the past few months. To say the least, divorce was stressful. She just hoped that there wouldn't be any fallout from his missing the hearing. She'd feel horrible if he was punished because of their little trip. He deserved so much better than that.

XXXXXXXXXX

Charlie sat on the top stair, straining to hear his mom's conversation. She was downstairs on the telephone and, thanks to the late hour and quiet nature of the house; he could just hear her voice filtering upstairs.

He knew that his parents were getting divorced, and knew what that word meant. His dad wasn't living with them anymore; he had a small apartment on the other side of town. Charlie really didn't like visiting him there, the place was pretty boring. He didn't even have a Game Cube.

Charlie knew how divorce worked. His mom and dad wouldn't live in the same house and he and Cassie would take turns, living in first one place, then another. His friend Jimmy liked living with his father the best. He didn't get to see his dad very often but when he did; his dad bought him a lot of neat things.

Charlie didn't think his own dad would be like that. His dad always said that time was better than stuff.

"We're supposed to be in bed," Cassie said, joining him.

"Ssh," Charlie whispered. He motioned for her to sit down. "She's talking to grandpa."

Cassie sat beside him. "What about?" she whispered. She was confused. She didn't know what divorce was, it wasn't something that her people did. Their parents married until they died and she didn't understand things like custody. Charlie had had to explain it all to her.

"About us," he said.

"Are we in trouble?" she asked anxiously.

"Ssh," he hushed.

"We're only going to need two bedrooms, Mike," he heard his mother say. "I know, and I've already spoken to Charlie's teacher. He can transfer to a school there in the fall."

"School where?" Cassie asked. Charlie ignored her.

"We won't move until June, that'll give him plenty of time to say goodbye to his friends."

"Move? But I like it here."

"Cassie, be quiet, I can't hear," Charlie chastised, slapping her gently.

"We'll still be going back and forth a lot. I know Charlie will want to visit Jack, and his doctors are here. It'll take time to find new ones in Denver."

Cassie gasped and Charlie dug his fingers into her arm, warning her to keep quiet. If mom found out she'd send both of them bed.

"No, Mike, I don't know what Jack will do with Cassie. Maybe he'll find her a new home. It's really not my concern. He brought her home; he can take care of her. It's better if she stays close to the SGC anyway."

Horrified, Charlie turned, meeting Cassandra's tear soaked gaze. Her hands were over her mouth and he could tell that she was trying not to cry out loud. He got to his feet and pulled her up, pushing her towards his bedroom. He shut the door and turned on the lamp.

She slumped dejectedly down on his bed. "I tried to be good," she said softly.

"What are you talking about?" Charlie sat next to her.

"I was bad and my parents went away and now Papa Jack is going to go away and it's all my fault," she said, her voice catching.

Charlie stared, trying to make sense of Cassie's words. Could she be right? He hadn't thought that he'd been especially bad lately. He'd done some things wrong, but he'd done far worse in the past and the worst that had happened had been him getting a spanking. She had to be wrong. There was just no way she was right.

She was wrong and he was going to prove it.

"Get dressed," he said, getting to his feet.

"What?"

"Mom has to be wrong," he said, not wanting to accuse his sister. She'd just argue or cry and then mom would know they were awake. "And I'm going to prove it," he declared, reaching for his clothes. They were just where he'd left them, piled on the chair.

"How can we prove it?" she asked, standing to join him.

"We're going to go ask dad. Now go, get dressed." He gave her a gentle push. "Just keep quiet and I'll come get you in a few minutes."

XXXXXXXXXX

Major General George Hammond sighed as he scrawled his name on the bottom of a requisition. Realistically, he knew he should care why Siler needed a gross of light bulbs, but right now it just didn't matter. Besides, he didn't know if he could concentrate on whatever story the man cooked up anyway.

His thoughts kept straying thirty years and a million miles away. He wondered where Carter and O'Neill were. He could only guess that they'd made their escape ok. He knew that Thornbird's search of the woods came up empty. And that the major spent the rest of his career bouncing from post to post, never quite able to shake the shadow of allowing a pair of spies to escape.

Fortunately, O'Neill had been right. Getting zatted had protected him from court-martial, even if he had been docked a week's pay.

That was the hardest part of his whole involvement, never knowing how it'd all worked out. He never knew if they made it home and hadn't dared to look. The last thing he wanted was to get any of them in trouble. If they were hiding, he didn't want to draw attention to them. And…if they were Soviet spies, then it definitely would not have been a good thing for him to be looking for them.

Reaching into his inbox, his fingers scraped bare wood. Raising his eyebrows, he sighed. Time to follow his personal rule; if the inbox was empty, it was time to go home.

He signed off his computer and got to his feet, quickly gathering his papers and shoving them into his briefcase. He couldn't stay here 24/7, just in case they got back. Despite his personal interest in SG-1's mission, he still had eight more teams to take care of.

He made his way down the stairs. He just needed to tell Harriman that he was leaving. Just as he reached the bottom, the klaxons wailed to life and George picked up the pace, coming to stand at Harriman's back. "Sergeant?"

"Unscheduled off world activation, sir," he said.

The wormhole splashed open and the sergeant closed the iris before checking his computer. "It's SG-1," he said, turning back to look at George.

"Open the iris," George said. He hurried out of the control room and into the gate room just as the iris spun open and two figures walked out.

"Yes!" O'Neill exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. "We're home," he declared. "Thanks to one sparky young Lieutenant Hammond."

"How did you know, sir?" Carter asked. The pair of them were definitely wearing the clothes of the time and George knew that there were a lot of people who would kill to get a genuine retro leather jacket like Jack was wearing.

"When I was a young lieutenant, I was ordered to escort two people out of Cheyenne Mountain. In the vest pocket of one I found a note with my name on it. Needless to say, I followed its instructions," George said, relieved to finally be able to tell his story.

"But you couldn't have known when to give it to me."

"No, not until I saw the cut on your hand. Remember when I took your cuffs off," George prodded.

She nodded. "Then you've been waiting for this to happen."

"Ever since we met," he confessed. "I almost didn't let you go."

"But if you didn't, you would have changed your own history."

Jack shook his head and smiled. "Don't get her started, sir," he warned.

"It's going to be a long debriefing, people. We'll start—"

"General?" Harriman interrupted him, calling out over the PA. "We've got a problem on the surface."

Hammond turned on his heel, hurrying into the control room. He picked up the phone and listened to the voice on the other end. He vaguely noticed O'Neill and Carter joining him, both curious about the problem. "Sergeant, bring them down," he instructed, hanging up the phone. "Colonel, I think our debriefing will have to wait," he said.

"Sir?"

"Apparently, your children are at the surface," he said. "I suggest you deal with this and we will debrief at 0900 tomorrow," he ordered.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam followed Jack through the halls, jogging a bit to keep up with his longer legs and fast stride. "You know, sir, you have to admire their ingenuity," she said, trying to dispel his dark mood.

He shot her a cold glare and swiped his borrowed access card through the reader; pushing the button with enough force that Sam feared he'd damage the mechanism. "Carter, either they've run away from home or—" He broke off, heaving a deep sigh and scrubbing his face with his hand.

"I'm sure Sara is fine, sir," she reassured him. "General Hammond would have been notified if something—I'm sure she's fine, sir." In truth, she couldn't be sure that the woman was all right. Yes, the colonel was Sara's next of kin, and yes, there was special attention because of Cassandra's true origins, but Sam couldn't shake the feeling that the main reason the children were here had a lot to do with the colonel's soon to be different marital status.

The elevator arrived at level sixteen and he hurried out, barely waiting for the doors to open. Sam followed, giving into her curiosity and concern about the children. Her parents were never divorced, but she did have some very real memories of how difficult it was to suddenly find your two parent household a single parent domicile.

The colonel stopped just outside the security office, pausing to peek in the window. She saw him slump slightly with relief before he straightened his shoulders and pushed the door open. "Charles Robert O'Neill! What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked loudly.

He was using the tone of voice Sam recognized as the one he usually reserved for Daniel as his most obstinate. Both children visibly jumped and Sam smothered a grin, recognizing his tactic. Her father had used it on her enough times.

"Dad!" Charlie got to his feet. "You are here."

"Sergeant." Jack turned to the security officer who was standing inside the door, guarding the children.

"Yes, sir," he said, taking the hint. "Ma'am."

He stepped outside and Sam moved to follow, suddenly feeling a bit like an interloper.

"Carter, stay," Jack said, motioning for her to take a seat. Charlie and Cassie were seated at a metal table, two cans of pop in front of them. Sam had no idea what the weather was outside, but she hoped that it wasn't too cool; both children were wearing jeans, t-shirts and light wind breakers.

Sam moved across the room and took a seat beside Cassie, feeling the need to reassure the child. Jack pulled up a folding chair and sat beside his son. "Charlie, why are you here? And where's your mother?" he asked. Sam could tell that he was working hard to keep his voice even and calm. Charlie looked to Cassie, then down at his lap.

"Charlie?" Jack prodded.

"Mom was talking to grandpa and she wants to move to Denver and take me with her but she doesn't want to take Cassie and I don't think that's right. She has to be wrong," Charlie said, the words spilling from his mouth almost incomprehensibly fast.

"What?" Jack asked, his eyes narrowing.

"He's telling the truth, I heard it too," Cassie said, speaking up to defend her brother.

"What did you hear?" Sam asked.

"She said that since Papa Jack brought me home, Papa Jack can find me a new home. But I don't want a new home. I like it here," Cassie said, her voice breaking.

Sam looked over at Jack, feeling a bit ill at ease to have a front row seat to the beginnings of a custody squabble. She could see his features settling into a cold, hard mask and recognized the signs. He was pissed. He was more than pissed. He was downright livid and was doing his best to not show his anger in front of the children. "You know, colonel. I'm hungry," Sam said, grasping onto the first excuse she could think of. "Would it be ok if I took the kids down to the commissary and got them a little snack?"

Jack looked at her, frowning for a second before he caught on. "Yeah, why don't you do that," he said evenly. "I've got a few things to take care of and then I'll come join you."

Sam got to her feet and urged the children to do the same. She ushered them from the room, imposing upon the sergeant outside the door to escort her back down to the commissary since the colonel had their only access card. Something told her that they'd only seen the beginnings of the colonel's 'bad mood' days.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack let himself into his apartment, automatically flicking on a light before flopping down onto the creaky couch. He did not believe it; he absolutely did not believe it. Sara being pissed at him he could take. Even though if anyone was the aggrieved party here, it was him. But to take out on the kids? He never realized that she could be that cold.

He'd gotten the kids home, finally. Things still weren't settled between him and Sara, all his hour long conversation on the phone had solved was her promising to talk to the kids and explain things.

He honestly didn't think she'd give on her decision. He knew she hadn't been too fond of adopting Cassie, but he never realized just how deep her feelings ran. Jack felt nothing but sympathy for her and he knew that she and Charlie got on like a house on fire. The problem was he knew if he pushed for Sara to keep Cassie, then she could play her trump card and his lack of biological paternity to keep him from seeing his son.

He would need to call his and her lawyer tomorrow, but Jack knew that he should start thinking of what to do with Cassie. He felt sick at the thought of trying to find her a new home, but he also knew that his job wasn't well suited to the life of a single parent.

Not only was it inherently dangerous, their recent mission only proved that anything could happen.

He still couldn't believe that he and Carter had spent the last week and a half thirty years in the past. And they almost hadn't made it back.

It had been shockingly easy for him and Carter to breach base security and gain access to the armory. A little tougher to rig up the trucks to charge the gate, but they'd managed, although if he never had to manually dial a gate again, it would definitely be too soon. Jack's shoulders still ached from his attempts to move the heavy inner circle of the gate.

Jack wished he'd known about Sara's decision before the mission, maybe then he could have asked Cassie if she'd been happy and what decision he should make now to make sure that her future would be as good as possible.

He still found it massively surreal when he thought about the woman he'd met today. There was a gentle wisdom in her eyes that calmed him, reassured him at the same time that it made him edgy. He had a decision to make now, and if he made the wrong one, he could alter her whole fate.

_"Where is everyone?" Carter asked, slowly walking down the clanging ramp. Her footsteps echoed eerily off the walls and Jack looked around. This place was deserted. There was an air of abandonment around it, a chill stillness that spoke of years of neglect._

_"Long lunch?" he suggested, his nerves still twanging from the close call they'd just had. There was nothing like fleeing in a hail of bullets to get the blood pumping._

_"Real long," she muttered, looking around._

_The door to his left groaned into life and Jack tensed, his fingers tightening on the zat. An older woman slowly walked into the room, her flowing white gown fluttering around her. "Hello, Jack," she said, smiling sweetly._

_Jack stared, trying to place her. There was something familiar, but nothing he could put his finger on._

_"So we know you?" Carter asked._

_"Jack will recognize me," she said, holding her arms out. "Come closer."_

_Jack looked to Carter who shrugged. He stepped forward cautiously, surprised when a familiar tingle ran up his spine. "Cassandra!"_

_She laughed, pulling him into a tight hug. "Papa Jack."_

_"Cassandra's thirteen," Carter said._

_"Not anymore, Sam," she said. "I've been expecting you - my whole life, in fact. You entered the Stargate a few seconds too soon, so the flare threw you far into the future. I've come to send you back where you belong."_

_"How did you know we'd come here?" Carter asked._

_"When I was old enough to understand, Sam explained what happened, and that I'd be the one to send you home."_

_"Like a self-fulfilling prophecy," Carter said._

_"Mm-hmm," Cassie agreed. "As much as I would love to spend more time with you, the timing must be precise. You have to go."_

_"Already? But there's so much that you—"_

_"Sam, you of all people know I can't," Cassie interrupted._

_She raised her hand and manipulated some device on her wrist. Jack turned, staring in amazement as the gate opened, totally without its normal flourish. Carter stepped forward, her hand digging in her bag to pull out the GDO. She stepped up onto the ramp and Jack moved to follow her, stopping when Cassie laid a hand on his arm. "Follow your heart, Papa Jack," she said softly._

_"Cass?"_

_"Follow your heart and you'll never go wrong," she said, smiling before giving him a gentle push. "Now go home, before you miss again."_

_"Sir?"_

_Jack gave Cassie one last look, before turning on his heel. "Let's go home, Carter."_

A door down the hall slammed, pulling Jack from his memories. He sighed and looked at his watch, groaning when he realized that it was 0200. "Damn," he muttered. His briefing with Hammond was in exactly seven hours and he literally hadn't slept for years.

He pushed himself to his feet, tiredly making his way back to the small bedroom. Within half an hour, he was buried under the blankets, his mind just starting to slip into the comforts of REM sleep. Thanks to the quirks of the human mind, he got up and went to work the next morning, not even realizing that the woman in his dreams wasn't the same blue eyed blonde he was used to, but rather a smiling figure in a worn tan coat with flowers in her hair.

Fin


	6. Chapter 6

Evolution: Riders on the Storm

By

Denise

"Cronus requested my presence." Teal'c said, his normally strong voice slightly weak and gravely. He sounded horrible and looked worse, but Sam knew that he was lucky to be alive. His injuries would have killed a normal human.

"So you went. alone?" Jack asked, the tone of his voice expressing precisely how stupid he thought Teal'c's decision had been.

"It is what he requested. When I arrived, he denied making the request. Before I could leave, we were attacked," Teal'c said, nonplussed by his commander's mood.

"By whom?" Sam asked.

"An invisible force," he answered. She looked up at the other people gathered around their friend's bed. Daniel grimaced and General Hammond raised his eyebrows skeptically.

"Invisible force?" Jack asked.

"A reetou?" Daniel suggested.

"Could one have come through the Gate with the Goa'ulds?" Hammond asked.

Sam shook her head. "Given how they affected Teal'c last time, it doesn't seem likely. But, we could break out the transphase eradication rods and do a sweep of the base."

"I did not sense the presence of a reetou."

"I almost wish you had," Jack said. That would have made things much easier. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and if they could blame a common enemy, it would go far in easing tensions between the SGC and their three Goa'uld guests.

"Teal'c, are you aware of any of the Goa'uld having some sort of stealth technology?" Daniel asked.

"I am not."

"What?"

"Hathor had the ability to appear and disappear," Daniel explained, answering Sam's questions.

"Okay, she's dead. Right? Please tell me she's dead," Jack requested.

"Yeah," Sam answered, a chill racing down her spine as she remembered the woman's fading scream as she fell to her death in the cryo-vat. The sound had been music to her ears at the time. Her memories were still a little vague, clouded by pain and nausea. Sort of like her memories from another time and place.

_A shadowy figure easing into her room, floating like a specter. Warm, orange light bathing her body, at first causing pain, then easing it, replacing it with soothing relief. Fading pain retreating in the wake of a sense of well-being and knowledge that things were set right._

"I did not attack Cronus," Teal'c insisted, his declaration pulling Sam from her memories.

"Well we believe you Teal'c, I just don't think anyone else is going to."

"Certainly not those lying, scheming, no good for nothing, slimy, overdressed style mongers,  
Jack ranted.

"Sam? You ok?" Daniel asked, ignoring Jack's diatribe.

Sam blinked, realizing that she'd been spacing out. "Yeah, thanks." She smiled weakly. "Colonel, could I have a minute?" she asked.

"Carter?"

"In private, sir," she insisted.

Jack shrugged and looked to Hammond, who nodded. "I need to inform the president," the general excused. He left the room and Jack tugged on Sam's sleeve, pulling her towards Janet's office.

They retreated, leaving Daniel alone with Teal'c. "What's up?" Jack asked after he'd closed the door.

"A year ago, when I was sick, you…I remember someone standing over me and orange light and…that was you, wasn't it?" she asked.

Jack shook his head slightly. "Carter—"

"Sir, you healed my leg and you used that device that we have down in my lab. The one no one has ever been able to figure out," she insisted.

He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "So what if I did," he asked accusingly.

"So you think you can do it again?" she asked softly.

He stared at her for a few seconds, revulsion crossing his face as the meaning of her words sunk in. "No!"

"Sir—"

"Carter, damn it, do you know what'll happen if the NID finds out what I can do?"

"Do you know what'll happen if Cronos dies?" she shot back. He glared at her and turned, pacing the small room. "Colonel, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," she said, her tone softening. "But I don't see any other way out of this. We can't keep Nirti and Yu here forever. We'll have to let them go and they'll bring their ships back and we won't be able to stop them."

"Carter, I used that thing once," he said, still facing away from her. "ONCE," he said, spinning to face her. "And I'm still not sure how I did it."

Sam sighed, understanding his reticence. She was asking him to do something that she knew he didn't want to do. His whole possession by Jolinar was a forbidden topic amongst them. Jack refused to talk about it, even tried not to admit that it even happened. She couldn't blame him. She'd tried to think how she would have reacted, how she would have dealt with being possessed by a goa'uld. How she would have managed the physical differences. His whole body chemistry was now different. He had naqahdah in his blood now and a protein marker that Janet didn't understand.

He'd changed in other ways too. Although he'd said that he had no real memories left over from Jolinar, she didn't think that was right. More than once when they'd been off world he seemed to have a deeper, richer picture than she'd expect. She definitely had the idea that he remembered more than he let on.

"Sir, I know you don't want to use it, and I understand why. But I just can't think of another way to keep the System Lords from attacking us. Teal'c's no help. They'll never believe the invisible assailant story. If we let Nirti and Yu go, they'll attack us. If we don't, they'll attack us." She broke off, shrugging. "I just can't think of anything else to try."

He stared at her for a few seconds, his eyes narrowing before he finally sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Is there any way we can lose the audience?" he said.

"Sir?"

"The fewer witnesses, the better," he said, accepting her idea.

Sam nodded. "I can talk to Janet. Get her to kick everyone else out."

"Do it," he ordered.

"Yes, sir." Sam turned and left the room aware of just how much she'd asked of him and more than a little honored that he'd listened to her idea. She just hoped that it'd work. If not, well they may not live long enough to regret it.

XXXXXXXXXX

Janet stood beside Cronos' bed, hoping that her skepticism didn't show on her face…and that Colonel O'Neill didn't take it personally. In her time with the SGC, she'd seen a lot of unexplainable and fantastic things. And she'd seen just as many horrors. Those dark things were why she wasn't protesting Sam and Colonel O'Neill's idea. If the goa'uld attacked, she knew most of the planet would be decimated. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she asked. While she was willing to let them try, she still didn't see what good that odd device could do.

"I've done it before," he said shortly, barely glancing up at her.

"You have?" she asked. "When?"

"Janet, you remember a year ago, when my leg healed so fast?" Sam asked.

"Of course, I—" Janet broke off. She shook her head. "It was just a delayed reaction in the antibiotics," she said.

Sam shook her head. "No. The colonel used the healing device on my leg. He fixed the infection. And he can fix Cronos."

The tone of her voice suggested that her words weren't meant for Janet, but for O'Neill, who was ignoring the two of them, his right hand held out over the goa'uld's battered chest. "You two want to shut up?" he growled. "I'm trying to concentrate here."

Abashed, Sam and Janet fell silent, their gazes riveted on the scene before them. What felt like hours later, the device hummed into life, a warm orangish-yellow light flowing from the round surface and illuminating Cronos' chest. A flicker of movement caught Janet's eye and she glanced over, surprised to meet Cronos' gaze. He stared at her, keeping eye contact as the colonel healed his body.

A few moments later the device snapped off and Janet saw the colonel sway. Instinctively, she reached out her hand, steadying him.

"You have healed me, human. I am sure you spared my life only to prevent your own destruction," Cronos said weakly.

"We didn't hurt you. And we saved you because we want this treaty to happen," Sam said.

"That is not possible now. Nirti and Yu have undoubtedly blamed the Tau'ri for this attack on me?"

"Good catch," O'Neill said. "Look, it's obvious to everybody that one of them did this to you. What if I can prove which one? What's that worth to you?"

"What do you ask in return?" Cronos asked, intrigued.

O'Neill slid the device of his hand, dropping it into Sam's waiting hands. "Not all that much, in the grand scheme of things."

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel stood beside Jack, doing his best to keep his expression bland and even. There was a lot riding on the next few minutes. And while this certainly wasn't the first time that Daniel watched Jack juggle the fate of the world, he found this particular time especially nerve wracking.

"You lied to us about being able to heal Cronus with that hand device," Jack accused.

"I tried honestly and failed," Nirti replied. "I was willing to save Cronus by taking him to a sarcophagus."

Jack shrugged. "Maybe you were, maybe you weren't. But the fact is you are the only Goa'uld here who has the technology to become invisible," he said, cutting right to the chase and playing his trump card.

"That is a lie!" Nirti yelled.

"Who's lying? We called the Tok'ra."

"They say you've been experimenting with phase shifting in order to battle the Reetou," Daniel said, following the script. This was the weak link in their bluff. They were counting on the goa'uld not knowing that their contact with the Tok'ra was tenuous at best and nothing more than a passing knowledge and occasional exchange of information or technology.

"You did not share this technology with the System Lords?" Yu yelled, snagging onto the perceived insult and not looking further.

"They are lying."

"You dare attack Cronus and defile our meeting with the Asgard?" he continued, ignoring her outburst.

"It is not true!" she protested.

"You are the one who opposed this treaty! You have long coveted Cronus' territory."

"Gonach!"

Yu lunged at Nirti and Daniel stepped back, not wanting to get between the two fighting creatures. It looked like Jack had been right. He'd gambled on centuries of enmity to override their common sense and for the two goa'uld to immediately jump to conclusions.

Suddenly, Nirti shimmered and disappeared, going invisible right before his eyes. Yu flew backwards and Jack stepped forward. Daniel ducked as the two SF's guarding the door raised their weapons. Both of them were tossed aside and Daniel saw one of their guns float off the floor. "Watch out!" he yelled. Bullets zinged through the air, hitting the wall with a dull thud.

The door blasted open and Daniel presumed Nirti was running into the hall. He heard a shout and then a short exchange of weapons fire before an eerie silence settled over the group.

"Clear!" a man's voice called.

"Medic!" another yelled.

Daniel struggled to his feet and followed Hammond out into the hall, sensing Jack and Yu behind him.

One of the SF's was standing over Nirti who was lying on the floor, blood staining her dress. Another one was a short distance away, kneeling over Sam who was also lying on the floor.

"Report!" Hammond demanded.

"Carter made her visible with the TER, but she opened fire," the first SF said. "We responded."

"Carter's alive, sir," the second said.

Daniel hurried to her side, kneeling down on the floor. "Sam?" He reached out and gently shook her shoulder, hoping to wake her up. She didn't respond, her eyes remaining stubbornly closed.

"Get medical down here," Hammond ordered as the SF left Sam's side, returning to guard the prisoner. "And escort this creature—"

"She comes with me," Yu interrupted.

"Yu?" Jack asked, staring at the man.

"We shall deal with this hataka," he spat. Daniel heard the tell tale clicking of high heels as Janet hurried down the hall, responding to the call. She looked from Sam to Nirti, torn as to who to help first. "Care for your own, healer," Yu said. "I do not wish for another of my kind to die in your care."

"I am not dead yet," Cronos said, slowly walking down the corridor, joining them.

"You were dying," Yu said, forgetting Nirti to talk to his fellow System Lord.

"The Tau'ri healed me," Cronos said.

"Cronus said he'd support the treaty and we wouldn't have to give up our Stargate. I was kinda hoping we could count on your vote," Jack said.

Yu looked at Cronos, then down at Nirti, still lying bleeding on the floor. After an eternal few seconds, he nodded. "We will not attack your world. But, if you continue to use your Stargate be warned. Anyone who is caught by one of the System Lords will be shown no mercy. They will suffer greatly," he warned.

"Well that certainly makes life more interesting," Jack said.

"Are we permitted to leave now?" Yu asked pointedly. "Or are we to remain your guests."

Jack looked to Hammond and shrugged. "Fine with me. Don't forget to pack your trash." He motioned towards Nirti. One of the SF's helped the woman to her feet. She swayed slightly, obviously weakened by her injuries.

Uncaring, Cronos stepped forward, harshly taking her arm. He dragged her forward and Daniel knew that her gunshot wound was going to be the least of her worries. Hammond gestured and Jack stepped forward, following the man's silent command to escort the goa'uld off the base.

Daniel watched them go and turned his attention back to Janet, who was still working on Sam. "Jan?" he asked, concerned.

"She'll be ok, Daniel," she promised, motioning for the two orderlies who'd just arrived with a gurney to step forward. Daniel got out of the way and watched as they loaded his friend onto the rolling bed. In just a few seconds, they were pushing Sam towards the infirmary, leaving Daniel alone. He sighed, looking around the aftermath of the fire fight. Jack certainly took negotiating to a whole new level.

XXXXXXXXXX

Teal'c heard a soft moan and turned his head, propping himself up on his elbows to see better. In the next bed, Major Carter was stirring slightly, obviously waking up from the anesthetic. She was lying in the bed next to his and had been since Doctor Warner had brought her from the surgical wing. Doctor Frasier said that her injuries, while serious, were not life threatening and that she expected the major to make a full recovery.

Major Carter stirred again and Teal'c sat up, pushing back the covers so that he could get out of bed. He padded over to her, his bare feet making no sound on the tile floor. He leaned against the side of her bed, cursing the weakness that still plagued him. He was unaccustomed to feeling so diminished. "Major Carter?" He took her hand, mindful of the apparatus inserted under her skin, feeding her body fluid and nutrients. "Do you require assistance?"

She groggily opened her eyes, blinking a bit as if she was having troubles focusing. "Teal'c?" she whispered.

"It is I," he said. "Do you wish me to procure Doctor Frasier for you?"

She shook her head slightly. "Thirsty."

She had no water beside her bed, so he returned to his own, pouring a small quantity of water into a cup and returning to her side. Manipulating the straw, he placed it between her lips and waited until she'd sucked up a couple of sips before taking the straw away. He was unsure if it was appropriate for her to have something to drink, but was unable to refuse her request so he kept her intake to a minimum.

"Nirti shot me," she muttered, frowning a bit.

"Yes, she did," he confirmed. "She was captured and has been surrendered to the custody of the System Lords," he said. "Daniel Jackson feels that 'she will get it'," he said, repeating his teammate's words.

"Did I miss anything else?"

"Nothing of consequence," he reported.

"Then I think I'll go back to sleep," she said, closing her eyes.

"That would be a wise idea," he said. He stood beside her bed for several more minutes until he was sure she was asleep. Then he made his way back to his own bed, sighing softly as he sank onto the too hard mattress. She, like most humans, would grow restless as she healed and he knew that soon his spare time would be devoted to amusing his teammate. He would be best served to rest while he could.

XXXXXXXXXX

George read over the last of the reports, assuring himself that every detail had been taken care of. "This all looks in order, Colonel," he said, setting the pieces of paper aside to be copied and filed. Given the nature of their negotiations and the presence of the Secretary of Defense, George knew that filing these reports was not much more than a formality.

"Glad to hear that, sir," Jack answered.

"Teal'c?"

"Frasier's already cut him loose. She said Carter can go home in a day or so," Jack answered his question.

George nodded. He'd already read the doctor's report and knew that both Carter and Teal'c would just need time to recover from their injuries. "Ok." Jack made a move to get up. "One more thing, Jack," George said, stilling his movements.

"Sir?"

"I must say that I am…disappointed."

Jack frowned. "General?"

"I would hope, after two years, that you would trust me," George said. To his satisfaction, Jack's face fell and he looked down. "Why didn't you tell me about your new…abilities?"

Jack shook his head. "Sir, I—" He stopped and leaned back, sighing as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I thought it was best if you didn't know."

"I don't like surprises, Colonel," George said, interjecting a tone of chastisement into his voice.

"General, if you knew about the changes, then you'd be honor bound to report them," Jack said.

"I appreciate your attempts to protect me, however you don't get these by being stupid." He motioned towards the stars on his shoulder. "And you also don't get them without learning to watch your back."

"I'm sorry," Jack said.

George nodded, aware that this was probably the most he'd ever get from the man. Jack O'Neill may be more than a little irreverent and, at times, a royal pain in the ass, in his heart, George knew that he was an honorable man. And a man who was going through a very difficult time in his life. Not only with his possession by the Tok'ra Jolinar, but in his personal life as well.

"Is there anything else I need to know?" George asked.

"You mean do I have the overwhelming desire to take over the world or start wearing gold lame? No," Jack responded. George glared and Jack sighed. "The doc says that I have naqahdah in my blood. You have to have that to run the toys," he reported. "I can use the ribbon thingie too, but I can't control it very well, hell I still don't know exactly how I controlled the healing device."

George relaxed a bit, relieved to finally be getting the truth from his officer. "Do you think you can do it again?"

Jack thought and slowly shook his head. "I don't know, sir. I can't say it's something I'm too comfortable with."

George nodded, accepting his words. In a way, he agreed with him. He wasn't too comfortable with the thought of one of his officers able to use the alien devices. On the other hand, however, Jack's abilities could prove to be a fantastic strategic advantage for them. Just as much as Teal'c's presence and knowledge was. "Very well." George leaned forward. "How are you doing, Jack?" he asked.

"Sir?"

"At home," he prodded.

"Yeah, I was meaning to talk to you about that," Jack said softly. "Sara's pretty adamant, she doesn't want to keep

Cassie, just Charlie," he said.

"Have you been able to work anything out?"

Jack shook his head. "She wants to get moved to Denver in the next couple of weeks since school starts next month. Cassie's still staying with her, but it's just a matter of time."

"Have you thought about any sort of child care?" George asked. "This is presuming you wish to keep custody of Cassandra."

"Mrs. Howell, she lives in the apartment complex, has offered to keep an eye on her while I'm at work but…sir, I can't do this job and take care of her," he said.

George nodded. He'd been expecting this ever since Jack had told him about his impending divorce. It was his experience that some men, and women, threw themselves into their jobs when their personal lives took a turn for the worse. But when those same people had children, sometimes the opposite happened. In a way, George didn't mind it. Family was important, and he'd missed enough family moments during his life to begrudge anyone that time.

But the officer in him mourned the loss of those very same people, and the skills and knowledge they took with them.

"Would you like me to find her another home?" George asked.

Jack shook his head. "I don't want to do that to her. She was just settling in with us."

"Ok. Then what can I do?" George offered.

"We're going to be out of the rotation for a bit until Carter gets back on her feet. I just may need a little more time," he said.

"And beyond the near future?" George prodded. He had a pretty good idea what Jack needed, it was something George himself had wanted more than once over the years.

"You still got that retirement paperwork in your desk drawer?" he asked.

George sighed. "If you're sure that's what you want to do, we'll see what we can work out. Maybe something that takes you out of the off-world rotation and into a more administrative role."

"Paperwork?" Jack asked. "Sir, we both know just how good I am at paperwork."

George shrugged. "Or maybe training. Jack, this command is just going to keep growing. We added three teams a month ago, funding will probably come through to add three more by the end of the year. All those new people will have to be trained."

"By me?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows skeptically.

"Who better than one of the most experienced officers of this base?" George said. "Anyway, it's an option. And there are others where that came from. Don't give up on us, Jack. Cause we're not ready to give up on you." Jack nodded solemnly. "Now go. I'm sure you have something better to do than sit here."

Jack got up and George watched him go, sighing softly as the colonel stepped out into the hall. He hated the thought of losing one of his officers, but he knew he'd hate it more if the man was destined to end up alone. Jack was too good of a man to suffer that fate.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack sank down in his office chair, surprised to discover that he actually felt better after his little chat with Hammond. He didn't realize just how stressful it'd been to keep his secret. Fortunately and surprisingly, Daniel had kept his mouth shut about his healing of Carter. Maybe their little run-ins with Maybourne and Kennedy had finally taught him something, that your best defense was the ignorance of your opponents.

And it wasn't just the Tok'ra left overs he felt better sharing. It comforted him in a way that Hammond knew about Sara and Cassie. Jack had told him about his impending divorce, Sara's knowledge of the program necessitated that disclosure. But he hadn't said anything about Cassie simply because he hoped that Sara would relent and agree to keep the girl.

Unfortunately, she was adamant. She didn't want to deal with Cassie and Jack almost hated her for it.

He honestly didn't know what he was going to do. He wanted to keep her. It would be cruel to uproot her and hand Cassie off like some traveling trophy. The poor kid deserved better. But he also had no idea how to handle a teenage girl. His apartment certainly wasn't big enough, although that wouldn't be a problem once Sara moved to Denver. Generous woman that she was, she was allowing him to keep the house. Unless, of course, she decided that she wanted to buy one of her own. Then Jack would have to sell his home to give her half the money.

Compared to what some of his friends had been through, Jack knew he was getting off easy. But it wasn't the stuff that mattered, it was the fact that Sara was taking his son to another city.

His son. Jack snorted at the thought. Technically, no, Charlie wasn't his son, no matter what the boy's birth certificate said. But as far as Jack was concerned, the boy was. It had taken him several one on one sessions with the boy to convince him that the divorce was not his fault. And it wasn't Cassie's either.

Could he make it work? Do the whole single parent thing? Giving up field work wasn't that horrible of an idea. He was getting old enough that sleeping on the ground was not something he looked forward to. And forty plus years of abuse were taking its toll on his body. Things were getting harder, joints creakier. He knew it was just a matter of time before he flunked a physical. It may be a few years down the line, but it would eventually happen.

If he was medically removed from the field, he knew he'd never be able to go back. But if it was his choice, then it would be easier to take the occasional day trip.

The easy solution would be to retire, but Jack also knew that he'd go stir crazy if he didn't have anything to do. And, while his retirement would provide enough for his personal needs, he had Cassie to think of. She'd need to go to school, buy clothes, all that unexpected paraphernalia that came with a kid.

Which meant, he sort of needed to work. But he had to balance that need with Cassandra's. And Cassandra was a young lady who'd have a lot of needs.

Someone knocked at his door and Jack jumped, caught off guard. "Colonel O'Neill?"

Jack looked up, frowning. An SF stood at his door. "Sergeant?"

"Sir, I have someone who wanted to speak with you," he said.

"Sure." Jack waved him in. The SF stood aside and a civilian walked in. "Shanahan, what brings you here?" Jack asked, standing up to shake the man's hand.

"Colonel. I needed to talk to you."

"Ok." Jack motioned for the SF to leave them. The man stepped out, closing the door, but not leaving. Jack knew that he wouldn't leave until Shanahan did. The detective may know some of their secrets, but he also wasn't cleared to have free run of the base. He motioned towards the chair and sat down himself. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to ask a bit of a favor. I just came from visiting Sam and the doctor said she'd be going home in a day or so."

"Yeah. The gunshot wound wasn't too bad," Jack said, reliving a moment of gratefulness that his second hadn't been more severely injured. A couple inches either way and she could have died. But Nirti's bullet had missed all her organs and was little more than a literal flesh wound.

"That's what the doctor said. My problem is, I just got assigned to a Federal case and I need to be in Denver by the end of the day."

"Federal case?" Jack asked.

Shanahan smiled. "Which I can't tell you the details of, but it's a big deal. Something we busted locally is leading to something big and I have to be there."

Jack nodded. "So…what? You need me to water your plants?" Jack said, trying to figure out why the man was telling him all this. He knew that the man was a detective with the Colorado Springs Police Department, and that he lived with Carter, but anything beyond that, Jack really didn't care about. Shanahan seemed a nice enough fellow.

"Actually, I was thinking more of you watching Sam for a few days," he said.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"I already asked Doctor Jackson, but he and Doctor Frasier have plans for this weekend and, from what Sam has told me, Teal'c really isn't allowed out so—"

"So what?" Jack asked. "She's a big girl, she can take care of herself," Jack said, slightly taken aback by the man's request.

"You know Sam as well as I do. She hates being sick, and she doesn't like to admit that she doesn't feel good. Which means, if she's home alone, she'll push herself too far and probably end up back here," Shanahan said. "Besides, she trusts you. She knows you."

"What's Carter say about this?" Jack asked.

"She's fine with it," Shanahan said quickly.

"You haven't told her, have you?" Jack accused, recognizing the look on the man's face. He'd been there himself a time or two.

"I was sorta thinking that you could—"

"Detective," Jack interrupted.

"Colonel. You know her. I tell her that she needs a keeper, she'll balk and throw a fit. I figure if you do it, the worst she'll do is tell you to go home. Best case scenario, it's for a few days at the most."

"And the worst case?"

"I get shot and you're stuck with her forever," he quipped. Jack shook his head at the man's irreverent attitude. "It's probably just for a couple of days, just enough to let her get her legs back under her."

"Fine," Jack agreed, spitting the word out quickly, before he could change his mind.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," he said, ignoring the niggling voice in the back of his head that was screaming a warning. Carter was his second in command, his female second in command. Technically, he shouldn't be doing anything for her that even hinted at favoritism. But he'd done the same for Daniel and Teal'c, assisting both of them when they'd been injured. And he was doing so at the behest of her boyfriend. How much more on the up and up could he be? And besides, she'd been shot carrying out his plan. Spending a few hours helping her out seemed to be the least he could do. And it wasn't like he had a full social calendar.

"Great," Shanahan said, getting to his feet. He pulled a key ring out of his pocket. "There's the spare key. I don't think I'll have time to hit the grocery store and I have no idea what you'll want to eat anyway." Jack took the key from him. "I got Sam's car keys, I thought I'd have a friend of mine help me get her car home."

"Which serves the dual purpose of making her get a ride with me," Jack said.

"That too," Shanahan agreed. "Thank you, Colonel. I really appreciate this."

Jack nodded. "Good luck with your case," he said.

Shanahan left the room and Jack looked down at the key in his hand. What in the hell had he just gotten himself into?

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam sat in the passenger seat of the truck, one hand stiffly digging into the arm rest on the door and the other held close to her side. True, she knew she'd been lucky and that the bullet had sort of grazed her ribs, settling against but not puncturing her lung. One of the main reasons Janet had kept her for a few days, other than the minor surgery to remove the bullet was the nice concussion she'd picked up when she, oh so gracefully, whacked her head soundly on the concrete floor.

Sam she knew that it was nice to be relatively up and around just a few days after being shot. And it felt good to be going home where she could be comfortable. She just wished she had a different way home than the man driving the truck right now.

She could shoot Pete. How dare he run off and do something silly like his job. There were hundreds of cops in Colorado Springs, but he was the only one who could do this job? What about sick leave? What about loyalty? What about being a nice guy and not deserting her when she was definitely down?

"You need me to hit the store?" he asked, breaking into her mental plans to do serious bodily damage to a certain cop.

"Sir?"

"Pete mentioned groceries," he said, glancing over at her as he slowed for a red light.

"We do take out a lot," she said, grimacing a bit. Both of them did seem to live off frozen food or take out grabbed on the way home. With her hours being unpredictable at best and his following course, it was actually quite normal for them to go days without catching more than a passing glimpse of each other.

"Yeah, so do I," he agreed. "Sometimes it's too much of a pain to cook for one." The light turned green and he accelerated. "Do you have a preference of stores?"

She shook her head. "I aah, really don't feel like tackling the super market. I'm sure there's enough in the freezer to keep me going for a couple of days." She wasn't quite sure what food she had in the house, but that really didn't matter at the moment. She just wanted to do anything she could to hurry this trip along.

It was a warm and muggy day, which made her grateful for the air conditioning in the truck, but still the bright sunlight hurt her eyes. Her sunglasses were in her car, and thanks to Pete's super efficiency, her car was in front of her house. Right where it didn't do her much good at the moment.

For the past couple of months, she'd done everything she could to keep her distance from her commanding officer. It wasn't that she was mad at him, or annoyed. It was because one little moment in an observatory thirty years and a thousand miles away still haunted her. She was falling for him, falling hard and it was the worst thing that could happen.

He'd been more open with her since their return from the past, seeming less of a superior officer and more of a friend. He'd even asked her suggestions in what to get Cassie for the girl's recent birthday.

In a way, Sam liked it. His acceptance made her feel more at ease around the other members of her team as well. The four of them occasionally went out socially, taking in dinner or a movie or even something simple like pizza at Daniel's.

She knew his divorce was proceeding as well as it could, with custody of Cassie the only real sticking point. But it was that same divorce that was contributing to her feelings of unease with him. When he was married, he was safe.

She knew that he respected his vows and that they'd never be more than friends. But now that that marriage was ending, that obstacle was gone. And Sam didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. All she knew was that she was feeling more and more aware of his presence and it scared her. The last time she'd felt this way about a man had been with Jonas and that thought was enough to make her pause and seriously think things out.

She wanted to say something to him, but also didn't want to. If she spoke up, then it was real and real things had to be dealt with. The easiest way would be for her to transfer, but then she'd have to start all over again with a new commanding officer and team and she was loathe to give up the friendship of her teammates.

She did know that she needed to deal with things herself, one way or the other, and soon. The last thing she needed was to have the reputation of inappropriate actions to dog her for the rest of her career. And there was his divorce to consider. Some ex wives would love nothing more than to have ammunition to use against their husbands.

"If you're sure," he said, pulling her from her contemplations.

"Yeah, I'm sure," she answered. "Honestly, I just want to go home and relax."

"Ok." He turned off the main street and drove towards her house. She closed her eyes, the scenery flashing by was starting to give her a headache. In just a few minutes, the truck pulled to the curb and she opened her eyes. Her hands fumbled for her seat belt and she pulled on the door handle. Sliding carefully to the ground, she stood there for a second, making sure her knees were indeed going to behave themselves. The last thing she needed to do was fall over or something. That would probably convince him that he needed to hang around, and she didn't want that. She wanted some peace and quiet and solitude so that she could think and relax.

He came around to her side, carrying her bag and Sam shut the door, stepping up the walk before he felt the need to offer to help her. She pulled her key out of her pocket and unlocked the door, pausing just inside the threshold. "I'm sorry that Pete imposed on your time off, sir," she said, reaching out for her bag. "And I appreciate the ride home."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, so you may as well just get in there and settle in," he said, gently pushing her to the side.

"Colonel—"

"Carter, for pity's sake, give me a break. I've been shot a time or two before and I have an idea how you feel." He reached around her and shut the front door. "Now, why don't you go get into something more comfortable and I'll see what I can find in your kitchen." He handed her bag to her and then walked down the short hall, making his way to her kitchen.

She frowned, wondering precisely when she'd lost control of the situation. "Peter Shanahan, I am going to kick your ass to next week," she muttered, laying the blame for her impromptu house guest precisely where it belonged. Resigning herself to the situation, she headed back to her bedroom. He was right about one thing, she desperately wanted to get into something a lot more comfortable.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack sat in the chair, fighting a yawn as the scenes from some movie flickered on the TV screen. Carter was stretched out on the couch, snoring softly. He now knew why Shanahan wanted him here. Sam Carter was a light weight when it came to drugs. Soon after she'd emerged from her bedroom, now wearing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, he'd given her the pain pills Frasier had prescribed. Within half an hour, she was distinctly loopy and crashed on the couch.

In a way, it scared him that she would have been here alone. He knew that she'd face two choices. Take the drugs and be dead to the world or not take them and deal with the pain.

Both alternatives Jack found unacceptable.

Despite his earlier misgivings, Captain, now Major Samantha Carter was a damn fine officer. He'd watched her deal with a lot in the past year and a half and, in some cases, she'd handled it better than him.

He found that he enjoyed her presence at various team get togethers and outings. Her quiet humor was a welcome break from Daniel's chatter and Teal'c's silence.

She definitely had a wicked sense of humor and wasn't afraid to use it. At the same time, she also had a good feel for when not to act and her ability to almost read his mind in the field sometimes scared Jack.

It had really been a long time since he'd been so in tune with another person. Lately, he found himself paying attention to her more. He was usually aware of when she was in a room. More than once, he'd caught himself watching her, just like he was doing now.

He could fall for her, he knew that. If he just let himself, he could fall hard. It was déjà vu all over again and emotions were surfacing that he hadn't felt in years. Emotions that were startlingly like the ones he'd had the first time he met Sara, his popcorn cascading into her lap when she bumped into him at a hockey game.

There was one huge obstacle in his way and it took shape in a 5'8" man who carried a gun and knew how to use it, even if he was a civilian. Jack had done a lot of 'distasteful' things in his life, but poaching wasn't one of them. She liked Pete, liked him enough to move with her from California and live together. That was as good as married in Jack's book.

In a way, it made it easier for Jack. He knew that she was off limits so there wasn't that awkward awareness that might have been had she been nicely single. He knew he could keep his hands to himself and keep it professional, he just had to make sure that she never realized how he was starting to feel. That could just make things too uncomfortable for both of them.

He heard a dull rumble and frowned, getting to his feet. He made his way over to the window and pushed the curtain aside. Much to his surprise, the brilliant sun of earlier in the day was gone, replaced by ominous looking grayish green clouds. A gust of wind rattled the windows and Jack cursed under his breath, recognizing the signs for what they were.

He turned and picked up the remote from the table, turning the TV to a local station. Weather warnings flashed across the screen accompanied by a radar image that was garishly painted in reds, oranges and yellows. Quickly identifying the county they were in as the literal center of the storm, with a large red blotch hanging over their heads.

Another gust shook the house and Jack sprang into action. Sometimes retreat was the better part of valor and there was nothing wrong with seeking shelter. He quickly checked the house, making sure that the windows were closed as the rain began to sheet down, punctuated with a shattering crack of thunder.

He went back into the living room, surprised to find that Carter was sitting up, obviously wakened by the storm. "What's going on?"

"Thunderstorm," he answered.

She rubbed her hands over her face. "Noisy," she muttered.

Jack heard a tinging sound and hurried to the window. "Crap," he moaned.

"Colonel?"

"Hail," he answered, watching as the balls of ice fell from the sky, pulling leaves off the trees and, he was sure, denting the hood of his truck.

"It gets worse," she said.

He turned to face her just as a weak whine filtered inside. "Tornado?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered.

"Ok, that's it. Basement," he said, shutting the front door.

She shook her head, not moving off the couch. "No, it'll be fine."

"In a tornado you go to the basement," he said, crossing over to her. "So let's go."

She shook her head again, scooting away from him. "No."

He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet. "Carter. Basement. Now," he ordered.

"No!" she yelled, pulling her hand free. "I don't—" Her words were cut short by a loud crash. Jack looked out the window to see a large branch off her tree lying across her driveway.

"You will if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you," he said, grabbing her arm again and pulling her behind him. He made his way to the door to her basement and pulled open the door. Flipping the light on, he led her down the stairs, belatedly remembering that she was fresh out of the infirmary and likely not up to walking too fast.

The basement was finished, but not furnished and consisted of little more than a work bench and some boxes in one small room, her furnace in the other. It was chilly and Jack was suddenly reminded of Carter's stocking feet. "Here," he said, pushing her to sit on a high stool sitting in front of a cluttered work bench.

Much to his surprise, she meekly sat down, her arms wrapped over her stomach. "It'll probably be over in a few minutes," he said. She still remained silent and Jack looked at her, frowning when he took in her pale face. She was literally shaking and looked like she was seconds from passing out. "Carter?" He moved to her side, laying his hand on her shoulder. "You ok?" She ignored him, her eyes fixated on the far wall. "Carter?" He gave her a small shake.

She started to gasp, obviously hyperventilating. "Hey." He moved to stand in front of her. "Hey," he repeated, tucking his finger under her chin to tilt her head up. "What's wrong?"

"Can't breathe," she muttered.

"Ok, ok," he said, wondering exactly what was wrong. It looked like a panic attack but he didn't see why…

_"He aah, he hit me and tossed me down the basement stairs and locked me in," she said evenly. "He then proceeded to frame me for his embezzlement and let my CO think I was AWOL."_

"You've never been down here, have you?" he asked, suddenly realizing what her problem was. Her husband had locked her in a basement for a week before he'd been killed. She slowly shook her head. "Ok," he said, giving her a smile. "Ok. You'll be ok," he reassured her. "I'll be right back."

He hurried from the room, quickly climbing the stairs and dashing back to her bedroom. He yanked the quilt off her bed, pausing for a second to glance out the window. The storm hadn't lessened in intensity, if anything, it'd gotten worse. He hurried back down to the basement, taking the steps two at a time. He went over to her and wrapped the quilt around her shoulders. "Still going strong out there," he said. She nodded absently, her fingers digging into the quilt.

He stood beside her, annoyed by how helpless he felt. He didn't know what to do. If he was at the mountain, he'd be calling Daniel about now. Not only did that boy know how to grovel, he knew how to comfort and reassure like it was nobody's business.

"How the hell do you manage to work under a mountain if you don't like basements?" he asked, grabbing for the first topic that came to hand.

"The SGC isn't a basement," she said, looking like she was working on controlling her breathing. "It's just a base."

"That's twenty-eight stories under a mountain."

She slowly shook her head. "It's not the same," she insisted.

"Ok." He nodded. "I can buy that."

He stood there for a few more minutes, glad to finally see some color creeping back into her cheeks as her breathing slowed a bit more. "So aah, what? Pete do all the laundry?"

She chuckled. "Actually, yes," she confessed. "Or I go to a Laundromat."

"You got yourself a good boyfriend there. Sara never trained me to do it. At least, not on a regular basis," he said. "I've gotten a bit better but, well that whole colors/whites thing is a bit of a mystery. Where do you put your gray sweat pants?"

"Boyfriend?" she said, turning her head and raising her eyebrows.

"Should I call him something else?" he asked, wondering what faux pas he'd just committed. "You're not married but there is this whole cohabiting thing. Don't tell me you go for this whole significant other bit?" he asked.

Much to his surprise, she started to laugh, the chuckles quickly turned into outright laughter. "You…you think Pete is my boyfriend?" He stared, not understanding what she found quite so amusing. "Pete is gay," she said.

"Umm, gay? As in—"

"As in gay. He likes guys. Thinks Daniel is hot and—"

"Carter," he interrupted. "Pete's gay?"

She nodded. "That's why he moved from California. Because he helped me, Jonas' friends were going to out him. They actually did and despite what you might think, it didn't turn out well so when General Hammond got me the posting here, I had him ask if the Colorado Springs PD needed someone. They did, Pete came with me and the rest is

history," she explained.

"Then why are you living with him?" Jack asked, curious.

"It's better than living alone," she replied simply.

He shrugged, unable to disagree with her simple words. So, Pete was literally nothing more than her roommate.

"You know, it might be settling down up there," he said, cocking his head slightly.

"Maybe," she agreed, just as the lights went out, plunging them into darkness. "Or maybe not," she said wryly.

Jack blinked, trying to clear his vision despite the total darkness surrounding them. "Flashlight?"

"I don't know," she answered.

"Right, you've never been down here before."

"Sorry."

"That's ok," he dismissed. "So aah, maybe I should see if I can find the stairs and—"

Her fingers dug into his arm. "Why don't we just stay put for a bit and wait for the lights to come on?" He felt her slide off the stool and he stood back a bit, not wanting to cause her to trip. He heard a slight flumping sound then felt her tug on his sleeve, pulling him down. He sat on the floor and realized that she'd laid the quilt out for them to sit on. "It beats standing," she said.

She sank down beside him and he could feel her arm brush his. They sat there for a few more minutes until the silence started to get on Jack's nerves. "Say something," he requested.

"Something?"

He mock slapped at her. "Smart ass."

She laughed. "Ok, Colonel, what do you want to talk about?"

"Carter, we're sitting in the dark, in your basement and you're in your jammies. You can drop the title," he said.

"Only if you call me Sam," she replied.

"Deal, Sam. So…Pete has the hots for Daniel?"

XXXXXXXXXX

Sara pulled her car to the curb, Charlie barely waiting for her to turn off the ignition before undoing his seatbelt. "Come on, Mom," he urged, opening his door. "Dad's waiting."

"You go ahead," she said, getting out of the car. He hurried up the walk and she followed at a slower pace, burdened by his bag. Jack had the next week off and Charlie was going to stay with him.

Sara made her way around to the back yard, her eyes picking out a few changes that had been made in the past several months since she'd moved to Denver and Jack moved back into their house. A few of the flower beds were different and she was pretty sure the curtains in the kitchen window were new.

Charlie yelled and Sara watched him hurry over to Cassie, the two children hugging each other in a touching display of sibling affection that hadn't diminished in the year since Charlie and she had been separated. Jack was hosting a barbeque today and his yard was filled with guests. Doctor Jackson sat beside Doctor Frasier, her swollen belly just visible under a loose fitting top. She remembered Charlie telling her about their impromptu wedding, necessitated by the baby the woman was due to have in a few months.

Teal'c sat on another bench, chatting with a woman Sara thought was Detective Shanahan's partner, while Shanahan and a dark haired officer were across the yard, tossing a football between them.

Jack was manning the grill, a station he deserted, handing the spatula over to Carter so that he could give Charlie a hug. She saw her son point, directing Jack over to her. Feeling a bit awkward, Sara just stood there, clutching Charlie's bag.

"Sara," Jack said, standing in front of her. "Let me take that."

"I hope I packed everything," shed said. "He didn't know for sure what you guys were doing so…"

"We'll be fine," Jack interrupted. "Lunch is about ready. Why don't you join us?"

Sara shook her head. "No. I aah, I need to get back."

"Ok," he agreed. "Oh, wait." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small envelope. He carefully ushered her around the corner of the house, out of sight of the others. "We're going to tell the kids this weekend but I wanted to tell you first and I didn't want to do it over the phone," he rambled.

"You're getting married," she interrupted, still not taking the envelope.

"In the fall," he confirmed.

"I'm aah, I'm happy for you."

"We'd like you to be there, if you want to be."

"So that's why she quit," Sara said.

"Huh?"

"Charlie told me last time that you had a new person on your team. That Sam was working in the lab," Sara remembered, her son's inconsequential banter having new importance now.

"Yeah," Jack said. "She's working mainly in the labs now. Major Davis, the guy tossing the football, he transferred here and took her spot."

"And Charlie?" she asked, voicing the question that was foremost in her mind, not really caring about his duty roster.

Jack shook his head, knowing what she was asking. "Charlie can stay wherever he wants. If he wants to move here, we'll make room, but I'm not going to suggest it."

"Good."

"But if he asks, I'll tell him it's a possibility," Jack warned. "I'm not going to take him away from you and Frank, but I'm not going to have him thinking he's not wanted either."

"Frank's gone," Sara blurted out.

"What?"

"Apparently, he wasn't too fond of fatherhood," she said, knowing that she was being a bit unfair but not in the mood to be totally honest. Frank was gone. However his newfound fatherhood had less to do with it than his anger with her for her not telling him the truth in the first place.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Jack said sincerely.

"Yeah." Sara pasted a smile on her face, gamely taking the envelope. "I've got a lot of things going on this fall, but Charlie will be there," she promised.

"Thank you," Jack said. He reached forward and surprised her by wrapping his arms around her. "I will always be there for you," he promised.

She hugged him back, knowing that he meant what he said, but that it was a promise she'd never collect on. He was happy. Really and truly happy and she wouldn't get in the way of that. "I gotta go," she said, pulling back. "Mike and I are doing dinner."

"Drive careful."

"I will. I'll pick Charlie up next Saturday. I'll call before I come."

"Later," he said, turning and going back to his guests.

Sara peeked around the corner, smiling as Jack ruffled Charlie's hair before taking a plate of food from Sam, sitting beside her. They were a family—they just weren't her family – not anymore.

Turning on her heel, she walked back to her car, getting in and shoving the key into the ignition. She glanced up at the house and husband that used to be hers and felt a moment of regret for the one little decision that had cost her so much.

Putting the car in gear, she drove home, acknowledging that she had no one to blame but herself.

Fin


	7. Chapter 7

Sam dried the last of the dishes, slipping the plate into the cupboard and shutting the door

When I first started this fic, I never intended for it to just keep going and going and going…it literally took on a life of its own.

My heartfelt thanks for all those that have sent me feedback for this, and my other fic. Those little gems dropping into my inbox were fantastic little mood lifters.

And I can't think of a better way to celebrate my 300th fic, than to put this series to bed.

Evolution: Checkmate

By

Denise

Sam dried the last of the dishes, slipping the plate into the cupboard and shutting the door. Who woulda thought that a simple barbeque would have resulted in so much non-disposable stuff?

The leftovers had already been safely tucked into their Tupperware containers and stowed in the fridge. She knew that she and Jack would eat a little of it, probably a lunch or dinner or two before she tossed them everything out next weekend. Jack may not mind the various biology experiments growing in his refrigerator, but she it was a habit she refused to pick up.

Despite the heavy lunch, she was feeling a little hungry, so she hung up the dish towel and opened the refrigerator. Spying the leftovers of Janet's cake, she pulled it out and set it on the counter. Both Janet and Daniel were due to spend the rest of the weekend down in Trinidad so she hadn't wanted to take the cake home only to spoil. And anyway, she'd said, Sam now had a household with one man and two growing children, the cake wouldn't last long.

The cake was a concoction of cake, Jell-O and whipped cream that was light and cool and surprisingly refreshing. Saying to heck with her diet, Sam cut off a large piece and stuck the rest back into the fridge. She then poured herself a fresh diet coke and made her way into the living room, sinking down onto the couch.

Setting the cake on the coffee table, she slid off her sandals before picking the cake back up, taking a large bite. "I hope you left some for me," Jack said, joining her on the couch.

"Is Charlie situated?" she asked, holding out the plate so that he could take a bite. He picked up her fork and carved off some of the cake.

"Yep," he answered around the mouthful of cake. "He and Cassie are catching up." It never took Charlie long to move back in since Jack insisted that the boy's old room be kept ready, only the closed door signifying that it was empty.

Sam nodded, leaning forward to pick up her coke. "She misses him." Jack and Sara shared custody of Charlie, with the boy living with his mother. Fortunately, Sara seemed to be rather understanding and allowed Jack and Charlie to see other as often as a weekend a month. Sam knew that it wasn't enough for Jack but it did work out for Charlie. The boy had made new friends in Denver and liked to spend time with them.

"He misses her too," Jack said.

He leaned back against the couch cushions and yawned. "What about the wedding?" Sam asked, finally able to voice the question that had bugged her since she'd seen Sara arrive. Sam had seen him usher Sara around the edge of the house, wanting to tell her about the wedding as privately as possible. While that may have been the polite thing to do, not being able to witness Sara's reactions meant that Sam had wondered about it all afternoon. In between playing host, playing in the pool with the kids and cleaning up, Sam hadn't had the opportunity to be alone with her soon to be husband and she hadn't wanted to broach the subject in front of either their guests or the kids.

"Sara'll make sure Charlie's there, although she might be busy," he said, the unsaid meaning clear.

"Which isn't a surprise," Sam replied, taking another bite of the cake.

He shook his head. "No. It's not." Despite their divorce being relatively amicable, Sam knew of precious few ex-spouses who would attend their former mate's weddings. She actually considered it a bit of a victory that Sara had agreed that Charlie could attend with little to no convincing.

Jack reached out with his finger and swiped a bit of whipped cream off the cake, holding his hand out so that Sam could lick it off. "Have I ever told you how much I like cake?" he asked, a playful glint in his dark eyes.

"Once or twice," Sam answered, obligingly licking it off. "And we both know how much I like Jell-O."

He leaned in, one hand taking the cake from her as his lips claimed hers. She wrapped her arms around him and gently leaned back, urging him to follow. One hand crept up from her waist, his calloused fingers sliding under her shirt.

"DAD!" Charlie yelled, pounding down the stairs. Jack abruptly pulled back, fumbling a bit as his hand got caught in Sam's shirt. He scooted away, trying to put a distance between them as Sam pushed herself up, panting both with arousal and a surge of adrenaline. "Cassie won't tell me where she put my Sim City game," he complained, bounding into the living room, Cassie hot at his heels.

"It's not his game, it's mine," she said.

"You both have a copy," Jack said, surreptitiously pulling one of the throw pillows into his lap as Sam fought to keep from breaking out in laughter.

"We both HAD a copy," Cassie said. "Charlie lost his."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"Didn't."

"Did."

"Didn't."

"Did," she insisted, both of their voices rising with each volley.

"STOP!" Jack yelled in his best 'I'm the colonel, don't mess with me', voice.

"Didn't you each write your name on your games?" Sam asked. It hadn't taken them long to realize that with two kids, and two gaming systems, the only way to prevent squabbles was to have enough of everything to go around. Even if 'everything' was two of each game title.

"It is," Cassie said, her hand shooting out, holding the game in question. Sam took it and held it up to Charlie.

"This is hers," she pronounced.

"You let Jeff Eisen borrow yours," Cassie said, her tone slightly mocking.

"And why didn't you say something earlier, young lady?" Jack asked.

"Papa Jack?" Cassie asked while Charlie gloated a bit.

"This whole argument could have been avoided had you just told Charlie where his game was in the first place," Jack said. Charlie's grin widened as Cassie's face fell. "And you, young man. What have I told you about loaning out your games?" he asked. Charlie stared for a few seconds. "Well?"

"That I can't," he answered in a small voice.

"Got it in one," Jack said, reaching out and taking the cartridge from Sam. "What do you think we should do with them?" he asked. He'd been doing this more and more lately, involving her in how to raise the children, asking her opinion and, slowly but surely, getting both kids used to the fact that Sam was going to be their parent.

Sam shrugged, deliberately drawing out her answer. "Well, I think if they can't play nice, then they don't need to play at all," she said. "Maybe the game cube just needs to be put away for the rest of the day."

Both kids' faces fell. It was obvious that they'd been expecting such an answer, but had been hoping against it. "Sounds good to me," Jack said, sliding the came cartridge onto the coffee table. "Game's off limits until tomorrow afternoon." He made a show of looking at his watch. "I think it's about time for you guys to get your baths anyway."

"But dad—"

"No buts," Jack said, cutting off Charlie's whining. "Both of you, upstairs and get your baths. If you get them fast enough, you can come back down and we'll watch a movie or something before you go to bed," he said.

"Ok," they both agreed and retreated upstairs.

As soon as they were gone, Sam groaned, burying her face in the cushions. "Oh god."

Jack laughed. "You are so cute when you blush," he said, reaching over and laying his arm across her back. She leaned against him, burying her face into his neck.

"I can't believe they almost caught us," she muttered, starting to laugh.

"The joys of being a parent," he said, chuckling along with her. "Their timing is worse than Daniel's." She shifted position, disposing of the pillow and moving to lean her back against his front, settling in as his arms wrapped around her middle. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"What?"

"Starting off married life with a ready made family?" he clarified. "Dealing with all of Charlie's issues, his therapy, the doctors' appointments," he listed. "His grumpy dad."

She laughed, running her hands over his. "I think as long as I have the grumpy dad, I can deal with just about anything," she said, pulling his hand up to kiss it.

"You can?" he asked as she moved her lips from his palm to each finger.

"Mmhm." He nibbled on her ear as his other hand tightened around her waist, pulling her closer.

"You know, I think I just figured out what I'm gonna get you for a wedding gift," he said.

"Really?"

"Yep."

"What?"

"It's a surprise," he teased.

"Jack," she whined. "Tell me."

"Nope."

"I wanna know." She craned her neck to look at him.

"You do?"

"I do," she insisted.

He leaned close and whispered in her ear. "A lock for our bedroom door."

"A lock?"

"Yep. I thought about vasoline on the door knob, but it gets messy," he quipped.

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" she asked.

"Once or twice."

"Well, flyboy, you get that padlock and I'm gonna show you," she promised.

"Really?" She nodded and he pushed her off him, rocketing off the couch.

"Jack?" she complained. "What the hell are you doing?"

"There's a twenty-four hour hardware store down on Academy," he said. "I'll be back in no time."

Sam got to her feet, lunging for and grabbing Jack's arm. She pulled him back down onto the couch. "Shut up and kiss me."

Charlie listened to the giggles floating up the stairs and turned, a smile cracking his face. "Don't," he said, holding out his hand to stop Cassandra.

"What?"

"We're not watching movies tonight," he said.

"We're not?"

He shook his head. "No. Come on." He pulled her away from the stairs. "I'll teach you how to play chess."

Fin


End file.
